What the Water Gave Me
by song-of-a-nightowl
Summary: Killian and Ariel left on a bad note. Now, he finds a mysterious woman in Storybrooke who seems to be missing something important. Contains smut. Hookriel.
1. Chapter 1 - Marianne

The street is nearly deserted, probably because of the storm rolling in. Killian doesn't mind; he's had enough of the people in this town looking at him like he's a monster. The hospital staff had at least tried to be civil, but he had seen the contempt in their eyes when they thought he wasn't looking. Honestly, he can't blame them. He knows he's a villain; he made his peace with that fact long ago.

Killian passes a diner; it looks empty. He pauses and weighs his options for a moment: go back to his ship, where Cora might be waiting for him, or stop for something to eat and risk more people giving him shifty looks. He is sorely tempted to just go back to his beloved ship, but a rumbling in his stomach soon puts to rest any other arguments.

A bell tinkles overhead as Killian steps through the door. The diner is virtually empty, a fact for which Killian is grateful. The black-haired wench behind the counter eyes him appreciatively as he walks in. Killian winks at her, grinning. He goes to sit at one of the odd, plastic chairs in front of the counter.

"So you're Hook," she says, as Killian sits down.

"Glad to see you've heard of me," he replies.

"You wouldn't be if you knew what Emma's told me about you," she says.

"You're a friend of Emma's, then? Do give her my regards the next time you see her," says Killian.

"Sure," she says, in a tone which suggests she has no intentions of doing so. Killian ignores it.

"I do believe this is an eating establishment?" he says.

"Oh, yeah. Here you go," replies the girl.

She hands him a large piece of paper covered in more of that odd plastic material. As she walks away, Killian stares at it and tries to make sense of the words on it.

"The bloody hell are pancakes?" he mutters.

Someone laughs hollowly. Killian looks to the left and sees a red-headed woman with her back to him and a newspaper stretched out in front of her. Her hand, delicate and pale, is partially wrapped around a cup of what smells like coffee. The scent is strong, drifting over to Killian from three seats away.

"Can I help you?" he asks contemptuously.

"Fish out of water, eh?" says the woman. Her voice is young and lovely, but there is an edge of bitterness to it.

"You could say that," he responds.

"Pancakes are dough, omelettes are eggs," says the woman brusquely.

"I'll bear that in mind," Killian says.

With a rustle of paper, the woman goes back to reading. As she does so, she trails a finger around the rim of her coffee cup. Her nails are red and chipped.

Killian turns back to the menu. A lot of the words still make no sense, even with the woman's helpful translation. He flags down the black-haired serving wench.

"I'll have a cup of coffee and some toast," he says.

It's what he had in the hospital. Not the tastiest thing in the world, but he's hungry enough that he doesn't care. Coffee, at least, he remembers being somewhat good.

He drums his fingers on the counters as he waits. His hook, he keeps tucked in his pocket. There's no need to frighten the locals; at least, not right now.

The redhead is the only other person in the diner, aside from Killian and the black-haired serving wench. And the serving wench has already retreated into the kitchen, leaving Killian alone with the redhead.

Quite frankly, Killian is intrigued by the woman. She never turns around, and she does not speak beyond the few words they exchanged about food. Killian finds his eyes drifting back to her every so often. There is something familiar about her, though it may only be her hair.

Killian knew a red-haired woman once. A mermaid, she had been. Lovely, too. But he hasn't thought about her in years. He lost her a long time ago, long before he lost Milah. He cannot recall exactly how old his mermaid was, but he realizes that with the curse, she might only be a few years older than when he knew her. That is, of course, assuming that she is in Storybrooke at all. He knows as well as anyone that some people didn't come over.

The serving wench comes back with his coffee and toast. The coffee smells sharp and strong, and the scent kindles Killian's hunger in full force. He eats the toast quickly. It is crunchy and covered in butter, and it rests satisfactorily in Killian's stomach. When he finishes, he sips languidly at his mug of coffee.

"What is your name?" he calls over to the redhead.

She ignores him. She flips her newspaper to another page and lifts her coffee to take a sip. Killian is fascinated by the way she moves her slender fingers around the cup. He lets his eyes trail down to her legs, covered in loose brown trousers and crossed beneath the counter. It is clear that she has a lovely shape. Killian can feel his interest in the woman increasing by the second.

"Your name," he repeats, louder.

"Marianne," she says.

"Pretty," remarks Killian.

"And yours?"

"Killian Jones."

She sets her coffee cup on the counter too quickly. The coffee sloshes over the side and onto Marianne's loose, white sleeve. She seems not to notice.

"Have I said something?" he asks.

Marianne reaches into her pocket and draws out a few green bills. She tosses them onto the counter beside her mug of coffee. Killian can hear the rustle of newspaper as she folds it up hurriedly. Then Marianne jumps up from her stool with a swish of red hair.

"Are you leaving so soon?" says Killian.

Marianne does not answer. She turns partway around, but then she stops. Killian realizes that she cannot leave without turning to face him, as he is sitting between Marianne and the door. The realization comes with a sort of smug satisfaction. If Marianne seems so determined not to show her face, then this will come as a victory.

Killian rises to his feet slowly, almost predatorily. His boots tap on the linoleum floor as he steps toward Marianne. Otherwise, the diner is entirely silent. He can see the tension in Marianne's shoulders. He recognizes the absence of her breathing, and he knows he has already won.

Killian places his hand gently on Marianne's shoulder; the gesture is gentlemanly but dominating. He tilts his head down to her ear and whispers into it.

"_I think you already know me._"

Marianne's shoulder hunches beneath his hand. Killian smiles.

"What is your name?" he asks again.

"Marianne," she answers.

"You're lying," says Killian.

"Am I?" replies Marianne.

She is trying to play the game. But her fear creeps into her voice, and both she and Killian know she has failed. She failed before she even began to play, because Killian knows this game better than anyone. And he will get the outcome he wants.

"Why don't you show me that pretty face? Perhaps I'll know your name without you telling me," says Killian.

Marianne does not move. Killian is growing more and more frustrated with this woman by the second. What had begun as intrigue has deterioted into a nuisance. He can no longer wait for Marianne to acquiesce to his requests.

Killian steps around her faster than she can react. He reaches to push her hair out of her face, but his arm stops in mid-air as he recognizes the woman in front of him.

"Ariel."


	2. Chapter 2 - Heartless

Ariel is still. Her eyes are wide, like those of a doe. Killian lifts a hand and gently traces her cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

"Ariel," he says again, quietly this time.

Ariel steps back. She shakes her head and adopts a sly grin. Suddenly, her eyes are cold and calculating. She looks Killian up and down, and he feels very aware that this is not the woman he once knew.

"How did you get here?" she asks.

"Does is matter?" says Killian quietly, "I've missed you."

Ariel laughs. Her laugh is high and biting.

"You missed me?" she repeats, mocking him. "You tossed me out like bad fish, and you expect me to believe that garbage? Yeah, right."

She makes to brush past Killian, but he grabs her around the upper arm and holds her in place.

"What happened to you?" he asks roughly.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replies, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

Her eyes dart down to Killian's hook for a second. He realizes that he didn't have it when Ariel last knew him. Then Ariel pulls her arm out of Killian's grasp and makes for the door. He watches her as she goes. Her hips sway, and she tosses her wild red hair over her shoulder. Killian feels an odd mix of fury and desire flare up in his chest.

He turns around. The black-haired wench is still standing behind the counter, pretending as though she hadn't been listening to everything Killian and Ariel said. Killian marches up to the counter and demands the girl's attention.

"Does she come in here often?" he asks.

"About as often as anyone else in town," says the wench, with a shrug.

"Do you know her well?" asks Killian.

Again, the wench shrugs. Killian huffs in frustration. The lass may be pretty, but she's about as helpful as any of the other lackwits in this forsaken town. He storms out of the diner while the black-haired girl shouts something about paying.

He cannot see Ariel in either direction, even though she left only a minute or two ago. He needs to find her. Something obviously happened since he last saw her. Or perhaps the years apart had changed her from the sweet mermaid she had once been.

Killian heads toward the sheriff's station. Swan may or may not be willing to help him, but he figures that she's his best bet. After all, she's one of the few people in Storybrooke whom he even knows, and she'll be the easiest to find.

As it happens, the sheriff's station is easy to find, or else Killian would have had to stop and ask someone for directions. That thought is abhorrent to him; he wants minimal interaction with the locals.

Swan is perched on a desk when Killian walks in. The tapping of his boots announce his presence before he even walks through the door. Swan's eyes narrow when she sees Killian.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Killian holds up his hands in a gesture of good faith. He says, "I don't want any trouble, Swan. I just want a few minutes of your precious time."

Swan regards him skeptically, but she gestures for him to follow into her office. She sits down behind her desk; Killian remains standing.

"So what is it you want?" asks Swan.

"There's someone in town," says Killian, "A woman. Her name is Ariel. She's an old friend. I ran into her before, and I need to find her again."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Your 'old friends' tend not to be too friendly," says Swan.

Killian clenches his jaw. He responds, "Just do it. Get me her address, anything. I need to find her."

"Fine, fine. What did you say her name was?" says Swan.

"Ariel," he replies.

Swan straightens and begins hitting keys on that box thing. Killian doesn't understand what that thing is or what it does. After a few minutes, Swan shakes her head.

"There no one in this town by that name," she says, "Is that the name she had when you knew her? With the curse, you know, people went by different names."

Killian thinks for a moment. Then he says, "Marianne. Check Marianne."

Swan hits more keys on the box. She scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to Killian. He reads it: 618 Riverside Drive. Relief surges through his brain.

"Be careful, Hook," says Swan, "Don't cause any trouble."

"No need to worry, love," says Killian.

He leaves the sheriff's station, all but running to get out of the place. Half an hour later, he is standing outside of a small, white house with a willow tree out front. Killian knocks on the door.

The door opens. Ariel looks at him, and her face floods with annoyance. She huffs out loud and rolls her eyes.

"Really?" she says.

"Really," replies Killian, "What happened to you, Ariel? You're not the girl I knew."

"Is that so surprising? It's been over thirty years. A lot's changed," she says.

"Twenty-eight of them didn't count."

"You leaving me did."

That stings, but Killian knows he deserves it. Not a day has gone by when he doesn't regret pushing Ariel away all those years ago. But he's here now, and doesn't that count for something?

"Please, just give me five minutes," pleads Killian.

"No," says Ariel firmly.

"Please! I shouldn't have left you," he says.

"Damn right you shouldn't have left! Do you know what it was like without you?! I cared about you more than anything and you left!"

Ariel is screaming now, and the door is wide open. If her neighbors are home, she clearly doesn't care. Killian accepts every harsh word she gives him, because he knows he deserves it. But he still doesn't think that his leaving could turn sweet, lovely Ariel into the hardened woman standing before him. There's something she isn't telling him.

"I want to make it up to you," says Killian.

"You can never make it up to me," says Ariel.

"I can try," he replies.

There's a crack of thunder somewhere behind him, and suddenly Killian is taken by how gorgeous Ariel is. Her lips are large and red, her skin pale and soft. Her hair almost glows, a stark contrast to the gloomy weather. Her shirt has several buttons left open at the top, exposing a bit of skin which Killian once knew incredibly well.

He steps toward Ariel. He knows he is playing a dangerous game, but he can't help himself. Ariel is entrancing.

He raises a hand and brushes his thumb over Ariel's lower lip. She looks at him with a haughty, challenging gaze. There is nothing in her eyes that betrays any kind of love, and that just about breaks Killian.

He leans forward and kisses her. Ariel's lips are as soft as he remembers. He slips his other arm around Ariel's waist and pulls her closer. Ariel brushes her tongue over Killian's lips, while she reaches up a hand to tug at his hair. Killian makes a guttural noise at the back of his throat. He kisses Ariel even harder.

Ariel pulls away for a moment. She says, "I'm still not yours. Not anymore."

"I wouldn't be so sure, love," says Killian.

And then they're kissing again. Ariel pulls him into the house and slams her door shut. In the privacy of her house, Killian has no reservations. He wants both of them out of their clothes, and he isn't willing to wait. He shrugs out of his coat and tosses it somewhere to his left. He reaches for the buttons on Ariel's shirt, but she stops him.

"Upstairs," she says.

Killian nods and lets himself be led up a flight of stairs, into Ariel's bedroom. Her house, he notices, is rather sparse. There's no spirit to it. Her bedroom is fairly bare, but the bed is all Killian cares about. Ariel stops him just beside it. Their knees knock into the mattress as they cling to each other.

Killian tugs at the buttons of Ariel's shirt with his hook. She'll probably be mad about that, but he'll deal with that later. Beneath her shirt, her skin is pale and soft, just like he remembers. When last he knew Ariel, she was a mermaid who never wore anything. He definitely preferred that. But there is something to be said for a world where she has legs…

Ariel slips out of her pants, and reaches for the front of Killian's trousers. He happily lets her pull them off while he tugs his shirt above his head. Then Ariel pulls him down onto the mattress with her. Killian has the brief clarity of mind to remove his hook and toss it to the side.

Ariel still moves like a mermaid, he finds. Her movements are graceful and slow, and she tantalizes Killian more and more with each passing moment. He wants so desperately to be rough with her; he delights in every moan that he elicits from her perfect lips.

He remembers the upper half of her body well from all those years ago. Things like that don't fade from a person's memory. He moves his hand over her arms and breasts with well-learned skill; he knows just what Ariel likes.

Her legs are a different matter entirely. They are unexplored territory, unfamiliar terrain. Killian maps out each expanse of skin with his hand and tongue, letting Ariel squirm in pleasure as she waits for him to get on with the real business. He drags out the foreplay, maybe because a part of him realizes that the longer this lasts, the longer he postpones Ariel ripping his heart out.

When he's thrusting into her, Ariel closes her eyes and moans aloud. Her voice envelopes Killian; he can barely breathe, she turns him on so much. She doesn't moan his name like he wishes she would, though. It's just an incomprehensible stream of "Oh god, oh so good, oh oh oh…" and maybe that's good enough. It's all he's going to get, at least.

More moaning, more thrusting, and eventually they relax against Ariel's soft, white pillows. She doesn't bother pulling up the blankets; neither of them is cold, and there's no need for modesty.

Killian doesn't know whether she is going to fall asleep or if she wants to talk. He notices that it has started raining since they came in the house; the drops slide down Ariel's bedroom window languidly. The pitter patter of the rain fills the silence that stretches between Killian and Ariel. He waits for her to break it first, but she is not forthcoming.

"Ariel…" he begins.

"Don't say it," says Ariel.

"Say what?"

"Whatever it is you're about to say."

Ariel had been lying on her back, but now she turns on her side to face Killian. He is on his back with his head angled towards Ariel. His eyes trace the elegant angles of her hands curled on top of the pillow.

"I don't want to hear it," continues Ariel, "You came here for something. You want something from me, but I don't want to get involved with you."

Her words sting. But Killian won't let her know that; at least, not right now.

"Why not?" he asks.

"Because you make me weak," she says quietly. She does not look at Killian when she says this.

Killian laughs bitterly. He says, "Guess what? That's what love is, sweetheart. It's weakness, and there's no getting around it."

"Who said I'm in love with you?" says Ariel coldly.

"You did. It was over thirty years ago and you didn't have legs at the time, but you said it," says Killian.

"Well, I changed my mind."

"I don't think you did."

"You think you know my heart better than I do?"

"No, I think you have no heart at all. Whatever is left of it, though, belongs to me. Don't deny it."

"You think I have no heart?"

Killian pauses. Then he says, "You're certainly being rather heartless about this whole thing."

"That's because I am," she replies.

Killian looks at her, confused. Ariel looks at him meaningfully, and he searches for some hidden truth in her expression. She cannot be serious about her being heartless, he thinks. Unless…

"The sea witch," whispers Ariel, almost inaudibly. It is as if she is afraid someone will hear her.

"You didn't," says Killian.

Ariel nods. Killian feels his heart rip in half. So this is what happened to make his little mermaid so bitter.

"You left, but I couldn't let go of you. So I made a deal. She gave me legs, and I had one week to find you and kiss you," whispered Ariel.

Killian cannot bear to hear this. That Ariel is like this because of him, that she missed him enough to make a deal with the sea witch…it is unconscienable.

"I'm sorry," says Killian, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Killian," says Ariel, "It wasn't your fault."

It is the first time she has said his name today, he realizes. He hadn't known how much he missed the sound of her sweet voice saying his name.

"I should never have left you," he says, "It was a mistake."

"It's done. And so is my deal. We have to live with the consequences, I suppose," she replies.

Killian shakes his head again. He says, "No. I won't, I can't. I'll find a way to get your heart back, Ariel. I promise."

"And if you can't?" says Ariel bitterly.

"I won't rest until I do," he swears.

He can see in Ariel's face that she does not believe it is possible. She has given up, he realizes. That damn near breaks Killian's heart. He reaches out an arm to pull Ariel closer to him. She nestles against his side and rests her hed on his shoulder. He kisses her on the forehead, and then he settles back against the pillows and closes his eyes.

His heart is beating loudly in his chest. He can feel it thrumming in his veins; his pulse is steady, constantly beating. He subtly reaches up a hand to Ariel's chest. There, too, he feels a steady bum-bum, bum-bum. He smiles.

"I'll find your heart, love," he whispers, "I promise."


	3. Chapter 3 - Friends with Benefits

Killian and Ariel walk across the beach, the dark brown sand clinging to their shoes. The ocean is a greyish color, as bland and bleak as the rest of this town. It's nothing at all like the ocean back home; there, it was every shade of green and blue and, at sunset, orange and red. Killian wonders whether Ariel misses the sea. He does.

"I offered her my voice, you know," says Ariel.

Killian looks at her.

"Ursula," she clarifies.

"Oh," he says. "Why did she say no?"

"Why take a voice when you can take a heart?" she replies bitterly.

Killian is silent. He does not know how to comfort Ariel when she doesn't have a heart. A million years ago, he might have held her close and stroked her hair. He might have whispered how much he loved her and how grateful he was to have her. But now, he just doesn't know.

Killian never thought he'd regret sleeping with a woman, and he certainly doesn't. But he can't deny that it's complicated things a bit. For the past two days, Ariel has been slightly distant, and they've barely touched each other since.

Killian reaches for Ariel's hand. She does not push him away, but nor does she embrace his grip. Her hand hangs limp inside his.

"The last thirty years," he begins, "What was it like for you?"

"You mean during the curse, or after you left me?" asks Ariel.

She poses the question innocently enough, but Killian can feel the venom underneath.

"During the curse," he says through tight lips.

"It was like death. I felt nothing. I did nothing. I remember things, of course, but in that way you only half-remember what you wore last week. It's just broad brush strokes. Nothing interesting happened. It was like being in a coma, except I was conscious," says Ariel.

"Was that the curse, or the lack of a heart?" he asks.

Ariel shrugs. "No way to know for sure."

They're approaching the dock now. There's no one in sight, but Killian can't help but feel like he and Ariel shouldn't be out in public together. After all, they need to keep Ursula in the dark, so to speak. For all they know, she could be watching right now.

Killian drops Ariel's hand. He misses the contact immediately, but he doesn't get the impression that she does.

"When are you going to start looking for it?" asks Ariel. She doesn't have to specify what she means by "it".

"Today. The sooner I find it, the better," says Killian.

"You've got your work cut out for you," she replies.

They round a corner in the direction of her house. Down the street, a dark-haired man, is heading in their direction. He is not unattractive; his face is defined by sharp angles and high cheekbones. He wears a thick coat over simple but nice clothing. Killian notices what looks like a very expensive watch on the man's wrist.

The man gets closer, and he seems to recognize Ariel. He smiles and waves, calling out, "Ariel!"

The man jogs the last few yards toward them. Killian glances at Ariel to gauge her reaction: she seems ambivalent, as far as he can tell.

"Hello, Eric," Ariel says to the man.

"Hi," he replies, "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Killian," she says, "Killian, this is Eric."

Killian nods, but he doesn't offer to shake hands. His hook, he keeps tucked in his pocket. He's been trying to make a point not to scare the locals.

"Are you new in town?" asks Eric.

"You could say that," says Killian.

Eric gives Ariel a meaningful look. Ariel ignores it.

"Anyway, I haven't seen you around lately, Ariel. Have you been okay?" asks Eric.

"I'm fine," she replies, "Just…busy."

Eric's eyes flash to Killian and then back to Ariel. It's subtle, so subtle that Ariel probably doesn't notice. But Killian does.

"I'd love to see you later, if you're not doing anything tonight," says Eric.

"Killian and I had plans," say Ariel.

"Are you sure? Granny's shouldn't be too busy tonight," he suggests.

"We had plans," repeats Ariel.

"Oh. Well, maybe some other time," says Eric.

He looks forlorn. Killian might have felt bad for him if he didn't lean down to kiss Ariel on the cheek. Immediately, Killian despises this man, from his expensive watch to his dark hair to his shiny shoes. He is grateful when Eric walks away and he can continue walking with Ariel.

"So…ex-boyfriend?" says Killian carefully, when they're far enough away that Eric can't hear them.

"Sort of," says Ariel.

"Oh, please tell me I didn't have sex with a woman who's taken," moans Killian. "Fun as it may be, it's never worth it."

Ariel chuckles. She replies, "Not taken, technically. It's…well, it's kind of hard to explain."

"Try me," he says.

"I guess 'friends with benefits' would be the term?" says Ariel. Her tone rises at the end as if it's a question.

Killian shrugs and gives her a confused look. They are at Ariel's front door by now, so his confusion is prolonged as she lets them both into the house. When they are through the door and Ariel has tossed her keys on a nearby table, she continues.

"Fuck buddies," she says, "Basically, we have sex. No strings attached."

Okay. Wow. That hits Killian harder than he expected. He feels a bit of guilt, mixed with some rage, and maybe with a little curiosity sprinkled on top. The idea of "friends with benefits" was certainly nothing he had come across back home. This world definitely had some aspects that recommended it. But the idea of Ariel doing that with Eric…

"How often?" asks Killian.

"Does it matter?" she responds.

Killian nods, mentally bracing himself for the answer.

"Usually at least two or three times a week," says Ariel.

Killian remembers what Ariel had been like the other day in bed. Downright irresistible, in his opinion, with all her red hair and soft skin and warm hands. But now Killian can't stop himself from imagining that it's Eric making Ariel moan and sigh like that, that it's Eric running his hands over her perfect breasts.

Killian is practically seeing red. He steps toward Ariel. He raises his hand to her face and kisses her roughly, maybe a bit too roughly. He's more liberal with his tongue than he usually is (and usual for him is still pretty tongue-centric). Ariel gasps and moans through the kiss. Her hands clutch at Killian's shirt, pulling him closer.

Killian moves Ariel toward the wall and presses her between it and himself. She moves up a hand to tug at his hair. Killian presses his hips against hers. Rage and lust are all that are driving him right now; he can feel himself letting go, and little by little his touch becomes rougher. Ariel seems to like it, though. She gasps and sighs and kisses Killian all the harder.

"You're mine," he growls, pulling away for a brief moment. "Mine, not his."

His lips are on hers again.

She pulls away. She replies, "I was never his. I said we were friends with benefits, not dating. It was just sex."

"Just sex?" says Killian heatedly, "You seemed pretty familiar when he kissed you."

"On the cheek!" protests Ariel.

"The man's bloody in love with you!" he exclaims, "Any fool could see that!"

Ariel eyes him suspiciously. Then a sly grin curls over her lips, so luscious and red from all the kissing. Killian forces himself to focus.

"You're jealous," she says.

"You can't be jealous over something that's already yours," says Killian.

"I keep telling you," says Ariel petulantly, "I'm not yours anymore."

He moves his hand down to Ariel's waist and pulls her closer (as if there were any more space between them to begin with). His grip is rough but not cruel.

"Really? You weren't mine when you invited me into your bed? You weren't mine when I made you come so hard you forgot your own name?" demands Killian. "Or perhaps you were his the whole time. Perhaps you're stringing me along with all this 'friends with benefits' nonsense. So answer me this, love: whose are you?!"

Ariel pushes him away and straightens her clothes. Killian stumbles back. He grabs the table to steady himself, but he accidentally uses the wrong arm. His hook leaves a hole in the wood. Ariel doesn't notice.

"I belong to no one," she says definitively, "But my heart belongs to Ursula. You want me to take you back, forgive you, keep you around? That's never going to work unless I have my heart back. Call me a heartless bitch, go right ahead, Killian. It's your damn fault in the first place. Nothing's happened here that you couldn't have prevented."

"I told you I'd get it back," he says.

"Then go do it. And you'd better not come back until you have it," says Ariel.

"But the sea witch –"

"Will use my heart against me if she finds out about you. Leave now, or else I'll call the sheriff."

Killian thinks of the sheriff, and he isn't so sure that Ariel has the threat she thinks she does. Still, he promised Swan he wouldn't cause any trouble. No sense in breaking any promises today. He won't cause trouble like he promised Swan, and he'll find Ariel's heart like he promised her.

Ariel flings the door open and holds it out for Killian. He nods at her politely, like the gentleman they both know he isn't. He steps outside, and the door shuts almost immediately behind him.

The sky is still as indecisively grey as ever. Killian wonders whether the sky ever changes in this forsaken little town.


	4. Chapter 4 - Ursula

The water is dark as sin, still as death. Killian eyes it suspiciously; he cannot see even an inch below the surface. If the sea witch has secrets hidden in the water's depths, he cannot tell.

He thinks of Ariel: of her bright red hair and even brighter smile, the way she kisses and the way she thinks. He's doing this for her. He pulls off his shoes and tosses them to the side, along with his sword and a few other items he has on his person.

He steps up to the small cement wall between himself and the water. He balances on the balls of his feet as he contemplates what may lie beneath the surface. Perhaps he should bring his sword? He jumps before he can make a decision.

The water swallows him whole, like the icy, black jaws of some horrid beast. The cold immediately sucks him up and swallows all feeling in his body. He can barely think except for screaming in his head about how horrible the cold is. But beyond the cold and the blackness and the pain, he remembers a playful, red-headed mermaid swimming through the ocean. He remembers the contrast of her bright hair against the blue waters, the way her laugh carried over the sound of the crashing waves. Then he begins to move.

Each movement of his limbs sends a knife through his skin, piercing his flesh like a thousand icy blades. But he swims as best as he can, for Ariel's sake. He can't see shit down in the blackness of the water. After a few moments, though, his eyes begin to adjust. He can make out vague shapes, at least.

He makes for the bottom. If Ursula is hiding anything in these waters, it won't be floating around near the top. When he gets near the ocean floor, seaweed tickles at his neck. It would send shivers up his spine were it not for the bitter cold already penetrating his bones. Killian is moving as quickly as he can, but all he wants is to be out of here.

He resurfaces soon. He takes a large gulp of breath, and then he resubmerges. Again, he finds nothing. He keeps doing that, getting steadily farther away from land each time. By the time he's ready to call it a night, the sky is lightening over in the east to a soft blue and Killian is beginning to lose feeling in his legs.

He makes his way quickly over to land, pulls himself out of the water, and splays out on the ground for a few minutes. He wants – no, needs – to get back in the water. He needs to find the sea witch, and more importantly he needs to find Ariel's heart. She said not to come back to her until he has it. And God, he needs her more than anything. It's been only a day since he's seen her, but it's killing him.

He can't help but wonder what she's doing right now. He can't help but wonder who she's doing it with.

Killian clenches his hand into a fist. He grits his jaw. Then he grabs his belongings, which were waiting patiently where he left them on the ground, and he stands up. Water drips in a steady stream from Killian's clothes as he walks along the street. He feels like the ocean water has stored itself all over him: in his hair, his clothes, his very skin even.

Did Ariel feel like this when she first left the sea, he wonders?

* * *

A motorcycle rumbles off in the distance. Eric ignores it. He keeps kicking pebbles along the sidewalk. His hands are shoved in his coat pockets and his head is bent forward into the wind. The weather bites at him, but not as much as the memory of seeing Ariel hand-in-hand with that other man.

He's tried to tell himself that it's nothing. But it sure didn't look like nothing. And the way Ariel had said that she and the man had plans, that was definitely something. Bah! He was being an idiot about this. What sort of a name was Killian, anyway?

The motorcycle gets louder and louder. It sounds as if it's coming toward Eric. He stops and looks around the street. He sees nothing. But just as he starts walking again, someone on a motorcycle comes roaring around the corner up ahead.

The motorcycle pulls up on the curb a few yards away from Eric. The motorcyclist swings a leg over the bike, climbs off, and pulls off her helmet. She shakes out her long, black hair. Eric can't help but momentarily appreciate the woman's curvy frame, clad in tight black jeans and a leather jacket. The heels of her boots click on the sidewalk as she steps away from her bike. After the seventh step, Eric realizes that he should probably stop staring.

He makes to keep walking down the sidewalk, but the woman stops him as he passes in front of her. She grabs him around the upper arm. The gesture is not threatening, but there's force in it. Eric stops.

"What's your name?" she asks. Her voice is husky and affected.

"Eric," he says slowly, turning to fully face the woman. "And yourself?"

"Ursula."

Eric shakes her hand. He asks, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Possibly," she says.

Ursula has a sly, mischievous grin on her face. Something about her makes Eric's skin prickle.

"I think we have a mutual friend," says Ursula, "A charming girl, goes by the name Ariel."

Eric tries to keep himself from reacting, but he can't help himself. Suddenly, he's afraid, not just for himself but for Ariel, too.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Eric says tightly.

"Don't lie to me, Eric," says Ursula with a simpering smile.

Eric steps back. He briefly considers running. But Ursula would just hop on her bike and catch him in about two seconds, so that'd be no good.

"I need your help with something," says Ursula.

"I'm not interested," says Eric.

"You will be once you hear what I have to say," she replies, "You care about little Ariel, right?"

"Are you threatening her?" demands Eric.

Ursula laughs wickedly. She says, "No, there's no need to worry about her. But I wouldn't want to be that friend of hers, the dark-haired one with the hook. He's causing a bit of trouble for me."

"What kind of trouble?" asks Eric.

"That's none of your concern. What I need you to do is very simple: keep Ariel away from him. Woo her, romance her. That ought to work well enough."

"I can't…she doesn't seem…"

Eric doesn't finish the thought. The despair carries in his words anyway and just hangs in the air. Ursula brushes it aside with a gesture like she's swatting at a fly.

"You're a very handsome man, Eric," says Ursula, "How could she possibly resist you? Get her away from that pirate for a few minutes, remind her who truly cares for her, and she'll be all yours."

"I don't know…" says Eric.

Ursula steps closer. She places a hand on Eric's chest. She gets her face close to his and whispers, "Are you really willing to lose her?"

She's got him. Eric curses himself internally and shakes his head no. Ursula grins like a cheshire cat; she's got him in her clutches.

"Excellent," she says.

She steps away and moves to get back on her motorcycle. She puts on her helmet and flips the visor up to give Eric a wink. Then she kicks her motorcycle to life and speeds off around the corner.

* * *

Ariel flips the page in her book. She picks up her mug of coffee to take a sip. The taste is bitter; she doesn't take it with cream or sugar. Her mind is half in the book and half with Killian, whever he is.

The doorbell rings. Ariel dog-ears her page and sets down her book. Then she gets up to answer the door. She runs a hand through her hair; her nails catch in all of the tangles.

Ariel vaguely hopes that it's Killian on the other side of the door. She wonders whether he's found her heart yet. But then she looks through the peephole and sees that it's Eric. She feels vaguely disappointed, but it feels far away, like it's someone else's emotion.

She opens the door. Eric smiles when he sees her.

"Hello, Ariel," he says.

"Hi."

"Can I come in?"

Ariel shrugs. "Sure."

She lets Eric into the house and shuts the door behind him.

"Everything okay?" she says.

"Absolutely," replies Eric.

"Then why are you here?" she asks.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been busy," says Ariel shortly.

"Have you got a little bit of time for me?" asks Eric.

"I'm not in the mood today, Eric," she says.

He's here for sex. She knows she can't technically get irritated about it. She does this to him at least twice a week, and he never complains. She's just really not in the mood for it, though. And what with Killian suddenly being in the picture, it wouldn't technically be cheating, but still.

"I wasn't suggesting…would you like to get a bite to eat? Maybe chat for a little while?" he tries again.

Ariel shakes her head. She replies, "No, really. I'm not all that interested. And since when is this the go-and-get-lunch kind of relationship? Last time I checked, it was pretty exclusively of the no-pants-necessary persuasion."

"That's not enough for me, Ariel. It's never been enough," says Eric.

"I'm not interested, Eric. You're nice, but…" she trails off.

A shadow casts over Eric's eyes. Suddenly, his shoulders hunch forward and his hands slip into his pockets. Ariel would almost feel bad, if she could feel anything at all.

"I'll see you around," she says feebly.

She opens the front door. Eric turns to go, but as he passes through the doorway, he stops.

"The man you were walking with the other day…" he says over his shoulder.

"A friend," says Ariel simply.

She's lying. "Friend" is just about the only word that doesn't describe Killian.

"And me?" he asks.

"A friend," she repeats.

Eric nods. He leaves. Ariel shuts the door behind him and heads back to the couch. She picks up her book to the page she dog-eared. She smooths the crease in the corner before she begins reading again.

* * *

Killian swaggers out of Granny's diner. There's a hint of whiskey on his tongue, but not enough to get him drunk. A pirate like him, he knows how to hold his liquor. And after two days of unfruitful searching for Ariel's heart, he needed a drink.

He bumps into someone on the sidewalk in front of the diner. Killian is ready to keep walking, but he recognizes the man he bumped into. The last time he saw him, the man was leaning down to kiss Ariel on the cheek.

"You looking for someone?" asks Killian.

He's picking a fight. He knows he is, but he can't help himself.

"I might be," says Eric, "Have you seen Ariel lately?"

"Maybe I have," Killian says with a grin, "And maybe I've seen a bit more of her than you have of late."

"What does that mean?"

Killian doesn't reply. He lets his shit-eating grin do the talking for him. Eric begins to glower, and then the truth dawns on him and he looks pretty damn pissed.

"You didn't…" says Eric.

"Sorry, mate. But you know, Ariel always preferred her men a bit rougher. And I can give her rough like you wouldn't even believe," says Killian.

Killian sees it coming a second before it happens, not enough time to dodge the hit. Eric's fist comes up and socks him square on the jaw. Killian's head snaps back. He brings his hook up to slash at Eric, and he catches the man on his arm. Killian can feel the blood run down both of their wrists.

Eric cries out in pain. Killian loathes himself for the feeling of satisfaction he gets from seeing Ariel's fuck buddy in pain, especially pain that he caused.

"You better stay away from her," says Eric, seething.

"I think that decision lies with her," says Killian, "You'd do well to abide her choice. And at the moment, her choice seems to be me."

"She told me you were just a friend," seethes Eric.

Killian laughs. He says, "The day I become 'just a friend' to Ariel is the day I sprout wings and a tail."

"Or maybe it'll mean she's just come to her senses," says Eric.

Cradling his arm, Eric brushes past Killian and heads into the diner. Killian doesn't know what sort of medical help he hopes to get in there, but the townsfolk will probably be more willing to help Eric than Killian. Killian wonders whether his jaw was bruised when the bastard punched him.

As he heads back to his ship, Killian ponders Eric's words to him about Ariel coming to her senses. There's not a doubt in Killian's head that she'll be different once she gets her heart back, but suddenly he has no clue whether she'll still want Killian. Maybe she'll want the nice guy who moons over her like an idiot. Maybe she'll want schmaltz and sappy love songs and roses. Eric can probably give her all of those things.

Killian wonders whether she'll still want a pirate whose first love will always be the sea. In his head, Ariel is the living embodiment of the sea, so beautiful and untamed and utterly green.


	5. Chapter 5 - Darkness

The door knocker is shaped like an octopus. Two of the tentacles trail lower than the others and intertwine to form a handle. Eric grabs the knocker and taps it against the door three times. Then he waits.

A cold wind is rising in the east. Clouds are gathering at the edge of the sky. A storm is coming. Eric turns up his collar against the wind; it does little to help. He hopes the door will open soon so he can get out of the cold.

Ursula comes to the door half-dressed in a loose black robe. Her dark hair curls wildly around her face. She opens the door only enough to show her face, but not enough to let the outside light filter into her home.

"Come in quickly," she says.

Eric does so. Ursula shuts the door behind him and latches the deadbolt.

"Cautious?" Eric asks, nodding his head toward the lock.

"Something like that," says Ursula.

The inside of her house is dark, darker than it should be. There are windows, but the curtains are drawn in front of them. The walls, the furniture, the curtains, it's all invariably dark. The house almost seems to absorb light, as if some dark enchantment has been cast to keep brightness out. Eric is entranced by the darkness; he feels ineffably drawn to it.

Ursula's voice snaps him out of his reverie. "You've been thinking a lot since our last chat, haven't you, Eric?" she says.

Eric shrugs his shoulders noncommitally.

"We had a deal," she says.

"Nothing official. You just told me to seduce Ariel. It didn't work," he replies.

"You barely even tried," says Ursula venomously, "You backed down at the first sign of rejection! How can you possibly succeed if you give up so easily?"

"How did you know what happened?" asks Eric.

"I have my ways," she replies, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Eric notices that Ursula's robe has slipped off one of her shoulders. Ursula doesn't.

"You want me to try again," says Eric.

Ursula "tssk"s and steps closer to Eric. She puts a finger beneath his chin and tilts his head to face hers. When she speaks, her voice is syrupy and heavy, like bad perfume.

"That girl was supposed to be yours, Eric. Don't you want her? Don't you want to prove that you're better for her?"

"No," Eric is surprised to hear himself say.

Ursula scowls. She whirls away with a swish of black fabric.

"Then why are you even here?" she says with a snarl.

"Because I've lost her," says Eric.

"That was your own fault! You poor, unfortunate soul. You insist on playing fair, and then you're surprised when you don't win. What did you expect?! With that pirate in town, you never stood a chance at keeping her unless you were willing to fight dirty!" shrieks Ursula.

The cabinets shake and rattle. A glass somewhere nearby explodes. Ursula's eyes look wild and insane; her hair and robe float around her as if she is suspended in water.

"If that's the only way to keep her, I don't want her," says Eric, trying to keep his courage.

"Then what do you want?! You humans are all the same! What is it?! Power, revenge, magic? It's a two way street, honey. Now tell me what you want!"

"Revenge?"

Ursula smiles. The room suddenly becomes still; Ursula's rage has vanished. Eric knows that can't mean anything good for him.

"Who?" asks Ursula, "The girl?"

Eric shakes his head. He can't risk hurting Ariel.

"Fair enough. The heartless little bitch is being punished enough as it is," says Ursula, "Who, then? The pirate?"

"The pirate," says Eric wonderingly.

Does he want to hurt Killian? He's punched the guy in the face once, and that felt pretty good. The stinging scar in Eric's arm makes him itch for some payback.

"The pirate," he says again, more confidently.

"I can do that," Ursula says, "But you have to be willing to meet me halfway. When you're in league with a sea witch, there's no room for hesitation or cowardice. I can see the blood in your eyes, dear; don't deny it. You want revenge, and you want it bloody. Are you prepared for that?"

Eric nods. He says, "But if we harm the pirate, then Ariel..."

"She won't be bothered by it," says Ursula, "The girl's got no heart. She can't feel a thing."

"No heart?" says Eric.

"None at all. I took it in exchange for her legs," says Ursula.

No heart. Ariel's got no heart. It's as if Eric has been looking at everything with blurry vision and someone has just given him glasses. Everything is so much clearer and makes so much more sense. Every little thing she's ever said to him, every time she's left his house instead of spending the night, and every time she's refused to indulge in any romantics: it all makes sense. She's got no heart.

But what about Killian, then? Ariel was definitely lying when she said he was just a friend. They must have known each other before the curse, if he's new in town. Eric wonders how strongly Ariel must have loved the man before the curse is she still does even now. It must take an awful lot to love someone when you haven't got a heart.

"You have Ariel's heart," says Eric.

"Locked away somewhere safe," says Ursula with a wink.

Ursula opens one of the cabinets that had rattled menacingly when she had been in her rage. She pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She fills them both and hands one to Eric.

"The girl was careless. She threw her heart away for a man who had abandoned her, and she paid the price for it. She knew the risks of making a deal with me," says Ursula.

"So you still have it?" asks Eric.

"Of course. Hearts are valuable. I'm not the only one who has them, either. The evil queen - Regina? I know for a fact that she keeps an enormous vault of hearts buried somewhere in town," she says.

"Don't you think Ariel deserves her heart back? She's had to live without it for over thirty years."

"My deals are permanent."

"If you give it back, she'll feel more pain when we hurt her pirate."

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing. You're trying to convince me to give her heart back. You still love the girl."

"I never loved her."

It's a lie. Eric can feel the lie turning sour on his tongue. He swallows some wine to dull the bitterness.

"I feel your pain, Eric," simpers Ursula, "I really do."

She tips back her glass of wine and swallows half of it. A drop of wine trickles down her chin; it almost looks like blood.

"Let me help you," she says.

"How do I know you don't want my heart, too?" asks Eric.

"Oh, Eric, I do. But I'll tell you before I take it. I'll let you know exactly when I'm going to rip it out. And when I do? You'll thank me."

"What do you mean?"

"Having a heart makes you weak. You've let that mermaid toy with you for too long. It's time to fight back." Ursula raises her wine glass in the air. "To power!"

"To power," says Eric bemusedly.

He watches Ursula swallow the last of her wine. She grins like a madwoman as she clutches the stem of the glass with bony fingers and too-long nails.

* * *

Killian steps away from the window. Ursula keeps her curtains drawn, so he didn't see much. But he saw enough. If there's one thing that he's now sure of, it's that Ariel's heart is somewhere inside the house.

Does he dare break in now? With Ursula inside, it's a pretty big risk. But being away from Ariel so long has made him impulsive. He has a hook and a sword; he can handle some sea bitch easily. And if the prince who's so taken with Ariel is also inside, then Killian will just have to cut him down, too. The idea is not entirely abhorrent.

Where to start, he wonders? Upstairs? The basement? The latter seems more likely. Being of the sea, the woman will not be overly fond of high places. Killian wonders how large her basement is, and whether it extends to the sea. The ocean is only just across the street.

After circling the house once, Killian finds a wooden door into the cellar. He breaks the lock easily enough with his hook, though he does try to be quiet about it. The steps creak as Killian descends into the cellar.

The walls are stone and black as night. Carved into them, there are images of sea creatures and shells. Some stones are missing from the wall, the space used for storage of myriad potions and magical trinkets. Killian does not want to consider what sort of wicked magics the sea witch has worked within these walls.

Killian can feel the evil crawling up the walls of the cellar. It unnerves him. He knows that he is a villain to many people of this town, but the sea witch is evil beyond anything he has ever contemplated. And she has power beyond belief, too. Killian wonders whether she could beat Regina in a fight.

He steps forward into the darkness of the cellar. He can see the faint outline of the walls ahead. There almost seems to be an eery light coming from beyond a corner. Is Ariel's heart beyond this wall?

He never gets the chance to find out. He hears a wild shriek somewhere to his left, and then he is blasted back against the wall. His head snaps against the rock painfully; his vision blacks out for a moment. When he gathers his senses, he can see someone looming above him in the darkness. With a horrible churning of his gut, he realizes that the sea witch has caught him.

"Ursula," he growls.

She does not speak.

Smoke billows out across the cellar floor. It feels heavy as it envelopes Killian's legs. Then his skin begins to burn. Suddenly, it feels as though someone is ripping the flesh from his legs. He screams out in pain.

"You meddle in things which do not concern you," says Ursula in a deadly calm voice.

He cannot reply. His head is screaming. He might be screaming aloud, too; he's not entirely sure.

Finally, blessedly, the pain stops. The smoke retreats. Killian can swear he hears footsteps somewhere on the other side of the cellar, but Ursula's voice is much closer than that. He dismisses it as the folly of a pain-addled mind.

"Are you going to kill me?" Killian asks.

In the way of answer, he feels a knife slash at his leg. Then Ursula's voice, somewhere near the ground, says, "No. But if I ever see your wretched face again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat. Stay far away from me, and far away from your little mermaid. Her heart belongs to me."

Killian laughs. Pain has made him reckless, for Ursula will almost surely want to cause him more pain for laughing. But he laughs, because Ariel's heart has never belonged to Ursula. When she made her deal, when she got her legs, and for all these years of being cursed, her heart was never Ursula's, even if it lay in her hands. Ever since the moment Ariel and Killian first met, her heart has belonged to him.

The knife slashes at his leg again. Killian does not cry out. He has grown accustomed to the pain, and his head is beginning to swim. What is pain to a man desperately in love?

"Leave. Now," commands Ursula, "The way you came."

Leaning on the wall, Killian rises to his feet. He can feel the blood slithering down his legs. He limps over to the steps and ascends them into the open air. Now that he is free of the crushing darkness of Ursula's cellar, his head clears and the pain sharpens.

Killian looks down at his legs. Blood is flowing freely from the two wounds on his left one, but he can feel worse damage beneath the legs of his pants. He can examine it more clearly once he is away from the sea witch's house.

After ten minutes of limping through the streets of Storybrooke, Killian realizes that he has not been heading towards his ship. In fact, he is only a block away from Ariel's house. He must have come in this direction on pure instinct. It's probably for the best; he doesn't want to patch up his legs alone.

Only after he has rung Ariel's doorbell does he remember his promise not to return without her heart. He wonders whether she will be angry to see him. But the pain in his legs tells him that it is too late to reconsider, that he needs her help more than she needs her heart. Then Ariel opens the door, and he is relieved to see nothing but concern on her face.

"What did you do?" she asks worriedly.

"The sea witch," he says.

He is slumped against the doorframe. After walking so far on his bloodied legs, they can no longer support his weight. Ariel sees that and allows him to sling an arm over her shoulder so she can lead him to the couch.

"I'll get some bandages," she says.

Killian is left alone for a few minutes, bleeding freely all over Ariel's couch cushions. He considers whether it would be worth it to try breaking into Ursula's house again, perhaps waiting this time until he's sure she is not at home.

Ariel returns with a roll of bandages, a bottle of disinfectant, and a dish towel in her hands. She kneels on the floor beside Killian and sets the items on the coffee table.

"You're a fool," she says, looking deep into Killian's eyes.

He can't help but smile. He is in an enormous amount of pain and Ariel is no closer to getting her heart back, but her mere presence is making misery impossible. And he cannot help but think that there was a small measure of adoration in the way she called him a fool.

"I was trying to save your heart," he says.

"You were being an idiot. Taking on the sea witch, I mean really," she says.

"Taking on the sea witch for you. I would do anything for you. You know that, love," he says.

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Love. You don't…I'm not your love."

Killian shakes his head. He reaches out a hand to touch Ariel's cheek.

"Don't you understand?" he says desperately, "You are. Even if you don't have a heart, even if you don't love me, I will always love you. I will do anything for you, Ariel. I –"

He is interrupted by a knock at the door. He lets his hand drop from Ariel's cheek as she gets up to go answer it. He stares up at the ceiling, cursing his inability to say those three words sooner.

"Eric, I'm a little busy right now," he hears Ariel say.

Killian sits up straighter so he can see over to the entryway. Eric is standing there, looking disheveled but happy. Killian glares at the man. He wonders what he was just doing at Ursula's to put him in such high spirits.

"I have something for you," Eric says to Ariel.

"Now really isn't a good time," she protests.

Eric disregards her words. He pushes a small, leather bag into her hands. Ariel looks at it in confusion. Killian catches on a second before she does. And he hates Eric for achieving what he couldn't.

Ariel opens the drawstrings of the bag and peers inside. She gasps.

"Your heart," says Eric proudly.

Ariel looks up at him. She smiles. "Thank you. Really, thank you, Eric."

Eric nods. Killian can see in the way he smiles at Ariel that the man really does adore her. Happy as Killian is that Ariel has her heart back, he can't help but resent the man who got it for her.

Ariel gestures for Eric to come into the house. They come over to the couch, near Killian. Ariel holds her heart gingerly in her hands; she looks at it as if it is made of gold. To Killian, it is.

"May I?" asks Eric.

He is holding his hand out. Killian realizes that Eric wants to be the one to put it back in Ariel's chest.

Ariel shakes her head. She turns to Killian. She doesn't ask him out loud, but the question is in her eyes. She holds the heart out to him.

Killian swings his legs off of the couch. With a grunt, he brings himself to his feet.

"Do you trust me?" he asks Ariel.

She nods.

"Are you sure? If I – if I mess it up somehow –"

"Shut up and do it," she says.

She means to sound resilient, but Killian can hear the fear in her voice. She has gone over thirty years without her heart. The thing is as foreign to her as the heart of a stranger. He would be scared too, if he were her.

He takes the heart from Ariel. He pulls it out of the leather bag and lets it sit in his hand for a moment. He looks at the spot on Ariel's chest where it ought to go, just above the top of her tanktop.

Killian pushes the heart forward, through Ariel's flesh, and into her chest. He does not waver, does not stop, does not hesitate. If he does, Ariel's heart will surely not survive. And that would kill them both.

He feels Ariel's heart lock into place, as though it has found where it belongs in her body. Killian's hand lingers for a second, afraid to let go, but then he pulls his hand out just as quickly as it went in. Ariel gasps aloud. Her knees buckle, and she grabs hold of Killian for support.

"Ariel?!" he says.

Her eyes close as she regains her strength. She takes several deep breaths. Her grip on Killian's arms lightens. Then she straightens and opens her eyes.

"Ariel," says Killian again.

"Killian," she replies.

She is looking at him so differently than she did a few minutes ago. This is the gaze of the mermaid he knew thirty years ago. These are the eyes of the woman he loved more than life itself, so bright and green and lovingly alive.

"How do you feel?" Killian asks.

"I feel…I feel…" she trails off, and then it hits her. "I feel!"

She raises a hand to trace Killian's jaw. She smiles; he has never seen a sight more lovely. She laughs aloud from joy, and then she steps forward and kisses Killian.

Eric clears his throat. Ariel jumps back and laughs.

"Sorry," she says.

"It's fine," Eric says.

"Thank you, really," she says.

"I was happy to do it," he replies, "Ursula was distracted. It was easy to get in and steal your heart. She probably doesn't even know yet that it's gone."

"What about when she realizes? She'll know you took it," she says.

Eric shrugs. He simply smiles at Ariel, clearly enjoying seeing her so whole for the first time.

Killian slumps back down to the couch. He had summoned the strength to remain standing long enough to restore Ariel's heart, but that strength has gone. The pain in his legs has returned in full force.

"Killian!" exclaims Ariel.

"I'm fine, love," he says, wincing.

Ariel settles on the couch next to him and places a hand on his arm.

"You're not. Ursula will pay for this," she says.

"The sea witch doesn't matter now. You have your heart back," says Killian.

"You're wrong," says Ariel, "She'll know who took my heart. And she'll want revenge. I'm not about to let her hurt either one of you."

"What are you suggesting?" asks Eric.

"I'm going to kill Ursula," says Ariel.

For a moment, Killian thinks she is kidding. But one look in Ariel's eyes tells him she is completely serious. She may have her heart back, but Ariel is not the same woman Killian knew thirty years ago.


	6. Chapter 6 - Heavy Hearts

Ariel's hair is splayed out around her head on the pillow. She is facing the window, away from Killian. The sheets have slipped down to her waist. Killian's eyes trace the elegant curve of her neck, shoulder, waist…he is lost in her skin, so pale and lovely.

The first glimmers of sunlight are coming through the window. Ariel will wake soon. Killian almost laments that this moment must end, that he cannot endlessly admire her beautiful form. Her hair, ordinarily bright red, looks as if it is spun from gold. Her pale skin is almost luminescent in the morning light.

Ariel's bedroom is decorated sparsely and mostly in white, but right now it is every shade of yellow and orange. The whole world, or at least their small section of it, is bathed in light and perfectly still this morning.

Ariel stirs. She raises a hand to wipe the sleep from her eye, and then she rolls over. She smiles when she sees that Killian is also awake.

"Morning," she says.

"Morning," he responds.

Killian extends a hand to caress Ariel's arm. He pretends not to notice that the sheets cover nothing above her belly button. He keeps his eyes on her face, and her lovely sea-green eyes, and her softs lips that he aches to kiss once more.

Ariel's face bears all the markings of someone just woken up: eyebrows pushed in all directions, a slight puffiness of the cheek that had been pressed against the pillow, hair mussed and tangled. Still, she is the loveliest sight that Killian has ever seen.

"Sleep well?" she asks.

"Always, when I'm with you," he says.

"Did you dream of me?" she asks.

She says it coyly, with a shy smile on her face. But Killian's mind flickers back to his dream, of darkness and blood and pain. His leg twitches where the sea witch sliced it open. He tries not to let the pain show in his expression.

"I'm sure I did, love," he lies.

Ariel smiles and snuggles closer to Killian. Her face is now close enough to his that he can see every fleck of gold in her green eyes and every dark eyelash around them. Killian slants his head forward to kiss Ariel softly. He puts his arm around her waist, his hand on the small of her back. Ariel's hands rest on his chest as they kiss.

The kiss grows deeper, with more tongue and more fire. Killian's mind flashes back to last night: skin, sheets, soft sighs. The return of Ariel's heart drastically changed things for them in terms of sex. Where their sort-of-one-night-stand had been angry and rough and passionate, last night had been softer, gentler, tenderer.

"Stop thinking so much," Ariel mutters between kisses.

"Am I?" says Killian bemusedly.

She nods and begins to bite playfully at Killian's lower lip. He groans and pulls Ariel closer. Ariel shifts so that she is on top of Killian, her hands placed on either side of his head. Their knees knock together accidentally. Ariel giggles.

Killian loves that he has his playful, jocund mermaid back. She is not exactly as he knew her, however. Ariel has become a mix of the two women she was, hardened and happy, closed-off and optimistic. Killian has thoroughly enjoyed spending the past day finding the balance of her new personality. He has even more enjoyed being welcomed back into Ariel's heart, and her bedroom too.

They spend all morning in bed, the sunlight growing steadily brighter and the sheets more tangled. When at last they get out of bed, Ariel's hair has stuck to her forehead and her skin prickles with a little bit of sweat.

Killian brushes her hair away from her face with a laugh. Ariel laughs, too, and pulls him into the shower. They take longer in there than is necessary, though Killian would argue that their activities in the shower are entirely necessary. He cannot keep his hands off of Ariel.

The haze of the morning and the sex and the sunlight has dimmed somewhat by the time they dress and sit down for breakfast in Ariel's kitchen.

"How is your leg?" she asks, "I hope last night…and this morning too, I guess, didn't make it worse."

"Not at all," he says. It's only half a lie. The sex didn't really hurt it any more, but it still hurts like a bitch. "If it did, it's a trade I'll happily make."

Ariel grins and takes a bite of cereal.

Killian notices that she has not bothered to put makeup over the mark he made on her neck. He can see it just in front of where her hair falls. He feels almost proud at the sight of it. Ariel's voice pulls his attention away from such sweet memories.

"We should check out what Ursula's up to. I don't want her hurting you again, especially not when your leg's still in bad shape," she says.

"You're not still intending to go after her, are you?" asks Killian.

"Of course I am," she replies.

It was a slim hope, but one that Killian had desperately clung to. All the same, Ariel's expression is determined, and her eyes say that she will brook no debate. Killian knows better than to attempt to talk her out of this.

"I'm not saying I don't want the sea bitch dead," he says, "I just don't want you getting hurt in the attempt."

"What matters is killing Ursula. If I get hurt, I don't care," says Ariel.

"I do."

Her expression softens. She reaches a hand across the table to grasp Killian's. She squeezes gently and smiles.

"Please don't worry about me. And please, trust that I can handle myself. I'm not the same helpless mermaid you knew thirty years ago. I keep trying to tell you that," she says.

She pulls her hand away and pokes listlessly at her breakfast. Killian looks at her, so innocent and burdened at the same time. He wishes he could lighten her heavy heart.

"I suppose I won't believe it until I see the proof," he says.

"Will Ursula's beating heart in my hand be proof enough?" she asks, looking up at him.

Her eyes show her fear, but they are fierce all the same. It's that fierceness that Killian so loves.

"Don't say that," replies Killian, "You…do you really want to kill the woman? Speaking as someone who knows, killing isn't something you come back from. It changes you."

"I've already changed. Ursula saw to that when she ripped my heart out," says Ariel.

"I seem to recall you telling me you gave it to her as part of a deal," he retorts.

"I seem to recall that I only made the deal because you left!"

Her eyes are narrowed in contempt. The bitter memory will swallow Killian and Ariel both if they let it, and that's the last thing he wants right now. He's amazed at how quickly a nice morning can turn so sour. The subject of murder tends to do that.

"Please," he says quietly, "I'm so sorry. I'll apologize a thousand times, if you like. I'll even go after Ursula for you. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"Why do you insist on worrying about me so much?"

"You know why, love."

She looks at him, all doe eyes and hopeful smiles. For a second, she is his little mermaid again.

"I love you, Ariel," he says, almost instinctually. Loving her is almost a part of who he is, at this point.

"I love you too, Killian," she replies, "But you're not talking me out of this."

A shadow passes over Ariel's eyes. Whether it is sadness or bloodlust, Killian cannot say. Either way, it worries him.

Ariel ducks her head down and focuses on her breakfast. She does not look up again, nor does she speak. Killian watches her. For the first time, he realizes the extent of the damage he did when he left.

* * *

Eric rolls over in bed. The clock reads four o'clock. He doesn't particularly care.

Last night, his dreams were red. He dreamt of bright red hair and a beating heart. He dreamt of a red wine dripping down the chin of a madwoman, her chipped red fingernails pressing into his skin, and her red lips curling into a vicious smile. He dreamt of rage and passion and fear, and he dreamt of the moment he realized Ariel would never be his ever again.

He sighs aloud and slams his head back against the pillow. He has that disgusting been-in-bed-too-long feeling. His skin feels thick, like he needs a shower more than anything in the world. But summoning the energy to get up and walk into the bathroom? That feels utterly beyond him.

There's a reason he's been in bed all day.

Ariel. Ariel. Ariel. He doesn't say her name out loud, but he turns it over in his head a thousand times. He had her once upon a time, and he may have had her again if only he had the courage to make his intentions known sooner. Maybe if he'd gotten her heart back before that pirate came to town…

The phone rings. Eric flings out an arm to grope around for it on the nightstand. He presses the green button and brings the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he says morosely.

"Eric?" says a familiar voice.

God, his chest fucking aches at the sound of her voice. It feels like something's been carved out of him.

"Ariel," he says weakly.

"How are you?" she asks.

"Fine, I guess."

"That's, that's good. Just, I wanted to make sure Ursula hadn't gotten to you. I don't know whether she knows I got my heart back, but if she does then she might come after you."

As if she cares. "I'll be fine. I've been at home all day."

"Just be careful," she says, "I'm going to deal with Ursula."

"Deal with her?" he repeats, confused.

"Be careful," she says, choosing not to elaborate, "Bye."

The line goes dead. So does Eric's brain. He tosses the phone to the floor and falls back against the pillow. He sinks into oblivion for what feels like hours until the doorbell rings.

Somehow, he summons the energy to get out of bed and walk to the door. Halfway down the stairs, he realizes that he's still wearing his pajamas. He can't bring himself to care.

He opens the door and nearly shits himself. There, in all her black and red, psychotic beauty, stands Ursula. She has a wild look in her eye, but whether it's rage or something else, Eric can't tell.

"You left in a hurry yesterday," she says.

"Things to do," he replies simply.

"I would have preferred for you to stay," she says.

"Would you?" he says.

Ursula steps forward and places a hand on Eric's chest. Her lips are very red, almost like blood.

"Do you have some spare time now?" she asks.

Eric doesn't answer. He can't answer. His brain is fogging over, consumed by Ursula's presence. The world around them is blacking out. But the less he sees, the more he feels. He's overcome with the rejection from Ariel and the jealousy over the pirate and the rage and the fear and something new on top of it all (lust?) and he can't do this anymore. He collapses beneath all of it.

He leans forward and kisses Ursula. She responds eagerly, almost as if she had been expecting him to do that. They step back into Eric's house, never pausing for breath.

Eric's head is becoming light. He feels almost dizzy. Ursula does not stop, though. Her kisses are greedy, hungry, almost vicious.

She kicks the door shut. Her hands are still on Eric's chest. He keeps kissing her, kissing her, kissing her, because it's the only thing that's made him feel alive all day.

Then his chest explodes in pain.

He pulls away from Ursula's kiss. She smiles deviously at him; her arm is sunk up to the elbow in his chest. He can feel her nails clawing around in his chest, feeling for something important. Then she pulls her arm out as quickly as she drove it in.

She is holding his heart in her fist, bright red and pulsating. He's never seen someone pull a heart out before, and he feels like he's going to be sick. And of course, he's surprised there was anything left to pull out.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Dagger

A bell jingles overhead as Ariel steps into the store. Even though the weather outside is sunny, the interior of the shop is dark. The shop feels like the kind of place where everything has dust settled over it like the first snowfall of the year. Ariel is afraid to make any noise or touch anything. With all the glass and magic, everything seems breakable.

No one is here. Ariel walks slowly around the shop, gazing at all of the mysterious trinkets.

What is magical? What is mundane? There's no way to tell. Ariel sees magic wands and magic lamps, windchimes and windmills, glass swans and hunting knives. A rack of swords rests in one corner of the store. One sword in particular catches Ariel's eye: it looks like a pirate's cutlass. She reaches for the handle.

"Careful, dearie."

Ariel withdraws her hand and turns around hurriedly. Mr. Gold is standing behind the counter.

"How long have you been there?" Ariel asks.

"Only a moment," says Gold. "I was attending to a few matters in the back room. Can I help you with something?"

Ariel composes herself and steps away from the swords. She approaches the counter, while Gold watches her carefully. His scrutiny makes her feel as if she is on display. It unnerves her, but she tries not to let that show.

Ariel says, "I need something that can kill a sea witch."

Gold gives a low whistle. He responds, "A tall order. Specific, too. If I may inquire, is there a specific sea witch you have in mind?"

"There's only one in this town. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

"Ursula."

"The very same. I've found that she's not so easy to deal with. I need magic on my side."

"Tell me, what did she do that you want her dead?"

"She attacked the man I love."

Ariel doesn't mention Killian's name. She knows about the animosity between Killian and Gold, and she doesn't think that mentioning the former would win her any sympathy from the latter.

"You're singing the same tune as everyone else in this town, dearie," says Gold. "I'd advise against the path of revenge."

"Do you have something that can kill her or not?" asks Ariel impatiently.

"Have you considered a gun?" replies Gold.

Ariel looks at him exasperatedly. She's a woman on a mission, and goddamnit she doesn't have time for his sass.

Gold holds out for only a second. He sighs loudly and says, "I'm hesitant to part with this, but your need is greater than mine."

He ducks below the counter, appearing a moment later with a sleek, black case in his hands. He places the box on the counter and opens it. Inside is a dagger unlike any other that Ariel has ever seen.

"This can kill any creature from the sea. Stab the sea witch in the heart, and she'll die quick as you please," explains Gold.

Ariel reaches for the dagger and holds it up to the light. The air around it seems to shift, as if she's looking at the dagger through water. The blade itself is a dull sea-green color. The handle looks like it is made of seaweed.

Ariel places the dagger back in its box.

"What do you want for it?" she asks.

Gold does not reply immediately. He looks Ariel up and down, considering his price. After a minute or two, he says, "Your voice."

Ariel splutters. She feels like something heavy has dropped into her stomach.

"My voice?!"

"Your voice."

Mr. Gold is stoic, impassive. Ariel cannot tell if he is kidding. She has a dreadful notion that he isn't.

"Isn't there something else?" she asks desperately. She cannot give up another part of herself to magic. No, no, no; she can't.

"This dagger has powerful magic in it, dearie," says Gold. "Remember: all magic comes at a price."

Ariel looks at the blade, remembering Killian's blood soaking into her couch cushions. She hates Ursula for putting her in this position. She hates Gold for demanding so much of her. But dammit, if this is what she needs to do, then this is what she needs to do.

When Ariel speaks, her voice comes out much quieter and meeker than she intends. She asks, "Can I get my voice back when I'm done with the dagger?"

Gold sucks in a breath and makes a face like he ate a sour lemon. "I'm hesitant to undo a deal once it's been made…but I suppose, if your need really is that dire…"

"It is."

"Well, you would be doing me a favor, getting rid of Ursula. She's the wrong combination of powerful and unbalanced to be of much help to anyone. She has a tendency to complicate things," says Gold. He pauses, considering things. "Alright, I'll make you a deal. You bring me this blade back with the sea witch's blood on it, and I'll give you your voice back, good as new."

"No tricks?" says Ariel.

"No tricks," assures Gold.

He waves his hand, and a contract and quill appear in a puff of purple smoke. Gold hands them to Ariel.

"Just sign on the dotted line," says Gold.

Ariel skims the contract. She checks for extra clauses, loopholes, anything Gold could exploit. The contract seems clean, though. Ariel holds the quill above it, hesitating for a moment.

"Any time now, dearie," says Gold.

Ariel thinks of Killian. She looks at the dagger and wonders what it will look like, bathed in Ursula's blood.

Ariel lowers the quill to the contract and signs her name. She does it in a hurry and with a pained expression on her face, but she does it nonetheless. She expects something dramatic to happen once she does, but there's nothing. No loud noise, no puff of smoke, no sudden pain as her vocal cords are ripped from her throat.

Ariel breathes a sigh of relief.

"Remember," says Gold, holding out the dagger, "It has to have the sea witch's blood on it when you give it back."

Ariel takes the dagger, gripping the hilt tightly. She opens her mouth to thank Gold: no sound comes out. Gold chuckles at the expression of surprise on her face. Ariel forces her face into stoic determinedness. She turns and walks out of the store.

* * *

Pain shoots up Killian's leg as he walks toward the front door. It hurts less than it did a few days ago, but he'd be a liar if he said it wasn't agony. He tries not to show it in front of Ariel, of course. But Ariel's not here right now, so he winces all he likes until he opens the front door. Then he winces for a different reason.

Eric is standing there in all his expensively-dressed, supposedly-charming glory. And it makes Killian sick to his stomach.

"Ariel's not here," says Killian brusquely.

"For some reason, I don't believe you," says Eric.

"That's not my problem," retorts Killian.

He makes to swing the door shut, but Eric puts himself in the way. Eric pushes the door open and steps into the house. Killian steps back instinctively, but the next moment he makes a point to puff himself up and appear intimidating. He knows how to deal with men like this; he's been doing it all his life.

"I think you should leave," he says pointedly.

"I don't think I will," says Eric.

Eric steps forward and raises a fist. Killian sees the blow coming, and he dodges it by a hair's breadth. He grabs Eric's arm while it's still oustretched. Then he forces Eric around and slams him against the wall.

"What's this about?" demands Killian, "Still bitter that you didn't get the girl? Or did the sea witch get to you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," says Eric. His voice is muffled somewhat by his face being shoved against the wall.

Killian's leg hurts way worse than before. Killian doubts he'd be able to move his if he wanted to. But he can't hold Eric like this forever.

Killian looks around his immediate vicinity for something he can use. The butcher knife in the kitchen catches his eye, but he doesn't entertain the notion. Ariel would hate him.

Eric takes advantage of Killian's distractedness by throwing him off. Then he whirls around to sock him in the jaw. Killian goes sprawling across the floor, his legs having finally given out. He tries to get up, but he doesn't have it in him. He tastes blood; he swears he heard something in his mouth crack that isn't supposed to. Killian can only watch in grim anticipation as Eric stalks toward him like a predatory beast.

"Oh, my God!" someone says. It's a woman's voice.

Killian looks toward the door, and if ever there is a moment when Ariel comes close to being deified in his eyes, this is it. She is lit from behind by brilliant sunlight, a contrast to the dark interior of the house. Her hair is coppery and wild around her head, her eyes blazing and furious. She has a knife in her hand (Killian has no idea where she got it); she adjusts her grip on it while flexing the fingers of her other hand.

Eric turns around. He exclaims, "Wha –"

Ariel lunges forward and slams Eric against the wall. Her free hand pins his neck, while her other brings the knife up to his chest. It doesn't touch him; she at least has that much restraint.

Eric jeers, "Are you going to kill me, Ariel? What, because I attacked your boyfriend?"

Ariel says nothing. Her gaze is like fire. Killian is grateful that he is not on the wrong end of it.

Eric continues. "Are you going to carve my heart out, like Ursula did to you? Go right ahead. You won't find anything there."

Ariel's rage slips for a moment, but her hand doesn't. Eric tries to step toward her, but he finds the dagger poking into his chest. He laughs breathily.

"What are you talking about?" demands Killian. He doesn't understand why Ariel is silent. Her anger screams louder than anything else in the room.

"I've got nothing left to lose," says Eric. "It was the greatest gift she could have given me."

"She who?!" roars Killian.

He knows the answer. He suspects that Ariel does, too. The thought scares him shitless, but he needs to hear Eric say it.

"Ursula. She ripped my heart right out of my chest. And you know what? I enjoyed it."

Ariel backs away from Eric like she's been burned. She's still brandishing the knife in front of herself. She stands between Eric and Killian, ever aware of the people she needs to protect.

"I would advise you to leave," says Killian pointedly.

He can see Eric calculating in his head, deciding whether it's worth it. Ariel has never looked more intimidating, red and terrible and red. Killian senses a power in her he's never noticed before.

Eric says, "Ursula is after your blood, the both of you. Don't think some little knife is going to stop her."

With that, Eric hitches up the collar of his coat and struts out the door, cool as you please. One would think that he'd just stopped in to drop off their mail.

Ariel kneels beside Killian and sets the knife aside. She runs her hands over Killian's face and torso, checking his injuries. Her fury is gone, replaced by tender concern. She gently runs her hands over Killian's jaw, and a moment later her fingers come away stained with blood. Killian feels anger pooling inside of himself like a blood blister.

Ariel hurries into the kitchen and grabs a few dishcloths. She fills one with ice. When she returns, she hands it to Killian to hold against his jaw.

She wipes the blood from Killian's face carefully. Even with her gentle touch, Killian is in agony. The pain in his…well, in his everything has returned in full force.

He lets himself let go for a minute whilst Ariel cleans him up. But something is nagging at the edge of his mind; something is not quite right. He cannot recall what it is until he looks past Ariel to the knife on the floor.

He reaches up to stay Ariel's hand. She pauses in attending to Killian's injuries and looks at him curiously.

"Where did you get that dagger?" he asks.

Ariel shakes her head. She tosses the dish cloths over her shoulder and grabs Killian's arm. She helps him to his feet, a difficult process involving much wincing. Killian has to lean against the wall the whole time. When he is on his feet, he tries again.

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there, love?" he says.

Ariel just looks at him. It's very clear that she's trying to say something without saying it out loud, but hell if Killian can tell what it is. The only non-verbal communication he's particularly good at involves either swords or nudity.

"The knife…where did you get it?" asks Killian.

Ariel turns away from him. She stoops to pick up the knife from the ground. Killian peers at the dagger, trying to puzzle out the mystery. There is something not entirely normal about the knife. Killian has a strong suspicion that he won't like where Ariel got it.

"Is there magic in it?" asks Killian.

Ariel won't look at him. Killian knows the truth without her having to say a single word. But the fact that she hasn't spoken since she returned to the house worries him. He grabs Ariel's wrist and forces her to turn and face him.

"Please, love. Just say something. Talk to me," he pleads.

Ariel shakes her head.

"Is there magic in that dagger?!" demands Killian.

His voice is loud, abrasive. Ariel jumps at the sudden hike in volume; he immediately regrets being so rough. He releases Ariel's wrist immediately.

"Just tell me, Ariel. Please. Is there magic in that dagger?" he asks.

Ariel looks at him. There's enough of a quiver in her expression to say "yes." Killian's face falls. A horrible sense of dread clutches at his gut.

"All magic comes at a price. What…what did you give up this time?" he asks.

Ariel shakes her head. Her eyes brim with tears.

"You didn't," says Killian.

The silent truth is right there, but he refuses to believe it.

Ariel turns and moves toward the stairs. Killian goes to follow after her. But the second he lets go of the wall, he tumbles to the ground. Ariel hesitates initially, but her concern for Killian overrides her desire to keep her secret. She crouches beside Killian and places a hand on his shoulder. Killian places his hand over hers. His expression is soft, his voice softer.

"You gave up your voice," he says sadly.

Ariel nods. Killian opens his mouth to speak, but Ariel stands and turns away from him. She folds her arms around herself and ducks her head. Killian wonders whether she is trying to hide tears. The thought tears him up inside worse than Ursula ever could.

Ariel walks up the stairs. Killian cannot summon the energy to follow her. His legs feel as though they're made of glass. It is a while before he summons the energy to stand. Even then, all he can do is limp over to the couch a few yards away.

Killian collapses on the couch and falls asleep shortly after. His sleep is dreamless for the first time in many days, thankfully.

In the morning, he forgets the previous day's events for a brief, blissful second. But everything comes back to him in a rush. He feels a sense of dread pooling in his gut.

Killian notices a note on the coffee table. He reaches for it and skims it quickly. It's just five words, written in Ariel's loopy handwriting: _I had to protect you._


	8. Chapter 8 - Darkest Night

Ariel tucks an errant strand of hair beneath her hat. She knows the precaution is a little silly. Still, she'd rather reduce the risk of Ursula seeing her, and her hair is a dead giveaway.

It's funny, she realizes, how nervous she feels going over to Eric's house. She's been over there before more times than she can count, and on none of those occasions did she ever feel nervous. She usually felt lonely, horny, or some combination of the two.

As she steps up Eric's walkway, she looks around and takes in the state of the house. It is immaculate, or at least it was a week ago. Everything looks just slightly overgrown and just slight dirty in the way that it would if someone had suddenly given up caring.

Ariel knocks on the front door. She doesn't have to wait long before it opens. Has Eric been waiting for her to come? If so, he's good at hiding it. He looks genuinely surprised when he first sees Ariel, and then his surprise turns to anger.

Ariel holds up a hand to pacify him. She pulls a note out of her coat pocket and holds it out to Eric. He regards her suspiciously, but eventually he takes the letter and skims it quickly.

"You want me to deliver this to Ursula?" he asks.

Ariel nods.

"You'll get yourself killed," he says uncaringly.

Ariel shrugs. Then she walks away. She only has until sunrise tomorrow, and she doesn't want to spend any more time than strictly necessary at Eric's house.

She walks home at a brisk pace. The streets are covered with a thin layer of rain, as per usual. The sky is overcast from horizon to horizon, as it always is. The weather today is the standard Storybrooke climate. The whole world feels perfectly normal, so Ariel feels all the more out of place in it with all of her shadows.

Her thoughts do not stay in one place long. Now they are pointing a knife at Eric's chest, now they are arguing with Killian, now they are swathed in Ursula's vulgar darkness. Each new thought hurts just a little bit more, and Ariel just tries to shove them down. But the less she wants to think, the more she does. Will it hurt, she wonders, if Ursula wins tomorrow?

She is glad when she nears her house. The walk back from Eric's was long, longer than usual. Ariel will be glad for some company.

Ariel steps into the house and shrugs out of her coat, hanging it up on a wall hook. She takes off her hat and shakes out her hair. She listens for any sign of Killian, but the house is still.

She steps into the living room. The couch is still spotted with Killian's blood from the day Ursula attacked him and Ariel got her heart back. Ariel's note to him, hastily written this morning, still rests on the coffee table. It looks as though it has been crumpled and smoothed out several times.

Ariel checks the house whole, but Killian is nowhere to be found. Ariel can't say that she's surprised. Last night didn't exactly end on a pleasant note.

Ariel sits on the edge of her bed. The sheets are rumpled and folded over. She can still see the indent on her pillow from where her head had been. Her bed was so very empty and so very cold last night without Killian beside her. She decides then that she doesn't want to spend tonight alone. Killian may be angry for what she's done, giving her voice away to Gold. But what she's doing tomorrow is for the sake of Killian's safety, so she'll be damned if she doesn't spend the night before in his bed.

Ariel grabs the dagger she got from Gold, straps a sheath to her waist, and slides the dagger in. Then she grabs her coat and leaves the house in a hurry, pausing only to lock the front door.

It is not yet midday, Ariel knows, but the overcast sky does not betray enough sunlight to gauge the time. It makes no matter. Ariel walks faster, mentally mapping out every inch of town between herself and Killian.

The docks are empty, save for an old man tending a dingy. Ariel gets a whiff of old fish as she passes by him. The Storybrooke docks are small, and Ariel needs only a moment to find where Killian docked the _Jolly Rodger._

Ariel places her hand through the glamour and watches it vanish from sight. Then she steps through. She finds herself on a flight of steps leading up the side of the great, red hull. Ariel hurries up the steps. They creak the whole way, like a wheezy old man.

The deck is deserted. Ariel goes below to search for Killian. It does not take long. Ariel hears him muttering and banging about in his cabin the second she sets foot on the staircase. She hurries toward the sound, but she stops short just out of view of the door.

Doubt rises in her, catching at the back of her throat. Ariel thinks of the pain in Killian's eyes last night when he realized what she'd given up. Does she really want to see that again? She grapples with her indecision for a moment. In the end she decides that since she's already here, she may as well bite her lip and take the plunge.

Ariel steps into the doorway of Killian's cabin. Killian is sitting on his bunk and holding an ice pack to his jaw. He grumbles something about the pain in his legs and a "bloody bastard" that Ariel strongly suspects is Eric. Then Killian looks up and sees Ariel standing there.

He is silent. His hands fall to his side; the ice pack drops to the floor. Killian rises to his feet and immediately rushes to Ariel. He reaches out a hand to caress her cheek, and she smiles sadly, not unaware of the pain in his eyes.

"Can you speak?" he asks.

Ariel shakes her head. Killian's face falls. He leans forward to press his forehead against Ariel's.

"Why, love? Why did you make a deal with that crocodile?" he says.

Ariel does not want to waste time lamenting her deal with Gold. What's done is done. She tilts her head up to kiss Killian. He lets her do so, but then he pulls away.

"What is this about, love?" he asks.

Ariel unstraps the sheath from her waist and tosses it onto a nearby shelf, the dagger within clattering agains the wood. Killian stares at the dagger for a moment. Then he realizes what must be going on.

"You're going to confront Ursula, aren't you?" he says.

Ariel nods. She cannot lie to Killian. But she will not waste time explaining her plan to him, especially when she has no voice. She would much rather do things that require no speech.

She steps forward and places her arms around Killian's neck. She kisses him hard. Killian wraps his arms around her waist. He guides her over to his bunk, and they settle in the middle of the mattress. Killian is on top. He has his good hand pressed beside Ariel's head to support his weight.

"Come for one last roll in the hay before you fulfill a death wish?" he asks.

Ariel shakes her head. She places a hand on Killian's cheek and gives him a look that she hopes says everything she can't right now.

"You're killing me," says Killian, "You really are."

He shifts so that he's lying next to Ariel and facing her. He reaches forward to brush her hair out of her face.

"You don't have to do this, Ariel," he says, "The sea witch is powerful. If you get hurt doing whatever it is you're going to –"

Ariel places a finger over Killian's lips. She raises her eyebrows and gives him a look that clearly says "be quiet." Killian nods. Ariel takes her hand away from shushing him, replacing it with her lips.

The kiss is bittersweet. It speaks of everything they've had and everything they may lose. It is, undoubtedly, the best kiss they've had since their first.

Ariel recalls their first kiss. She had been fresh from the sea, with oceanwater dripping her from hair and seaweed draped from her tail. Killian had been sat on the dock of some fishing town. He had leaned down into the water while Ariel pulled herself up on one of the pilons. The kiss had been quick, the stolen and dangerous kiss of lovers from different worlds.

That kiss was the moment when Ariel lost control of her heart. And right now, in the cabin, she knows that she has not regained it since. Killian still holds her heart in his hand, and he's been good to it.

* * *

Eric descends deeper into darkness. The stairs are lost to sight, and Eric has to keep one hand on the railing. At last, he feels himself on the flat ground of the cellar. He can see murky, greenish light off to the side, but it does not extend to where he stands.

"Ursula?" he calls out.

He hears a swish of fabric, the clinking of vials, foosteps on flagstones. And then candles burst into life around him. Ursula stands before him, wearing her usual black robe. Her hair is curled over one shoulder, falling to just below her breasts.

Eric holds out the note. Ursula snatches it from him, holds it up to the light, and scans it quickly.

"It's from Ariel," Eric explains.

"I can see that," Ursula replies sharply, "The bitch is bold."

"Too bold," says Eric.

Ursula's eyes are still glued to the note, as if there is some hidden message in it. Eric waits for Ursula to say more, but she is not forthcoming.

"Are you going to go at sunrise?" he asks. "To the docks?"

"I believe I shall," says Ursula.

A grin forms on the sea witch's face. Eric can tell that an idea is taking shape in her mind. Judging by her look of glee, it is not an idea that will bode well for Ariel.

"You went to the mermaid's house yesterday," says Ursula. It is not a question.

"She didn't speak," says Eric.

"Interesting," responds Ursula, "Fetch me my scrying basin."

Eric hurries to an alcove in the far wall. He picks up a heavy, stone basin with runes carved on the sides.

"Mind you don't spill any of the water," says Ursula.

Eric makes a point not to. He moves slowly as he carries the basin over, keeping it level the whole time. Ursula takes it from him easily. She treats it as though it's light as a feather.

"Show me the mermaid. Show me the last words she spoke," says Ursula.

She swirls the basin around. The water inside sloshes about, but it does not leave the basin. Ursula's focus is absolute, her attention unwavering. Eric is silent as his mistress watches events of the past. He waits until she has finished, and then he carries the scrying basin back to its alcove.

"The little mermaid gave her voice away," says Ursula gleefully. "I have a job for you, Eric."

"Anything you command, Ursula," he replies.

* * *

Last-night-on-earth sex is pretty damn great. It was great the first time, and the second, and the third. Hell, Ariel's lost count by this point. Whatever round they're on, Killian's doing a damn good job helping her forget that she might die tomorrow.

Ariel giggles silently as she feels Killian tickle her inner thigh. Her body shakes with the laughter, though, so he gets the point. Killian comes up from between her legs and kisses her on the cheek. He's smiling like he's so damn proud of himself, as he should be. Smooth-talk isn't the only good thing Killian can do with his tongue.

Killian lies on his back, and Ariel cuddles against him with her head on his shoulder. Killian kisses the top of her head and idly strokes her hip. The bedsheets are tangled and forgotten at the foot of the mattress.

"Got more in you, love?" asks Killian.

Ariel raises her head to give him a look. Killian chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss. Ariel kisses him back. She brings her hand up to stroke a finger along his collarbone. When they pull apart, she puts her head back down on his shoulder and rests her hand against his chest.

"You should rest a while. You'll need it for tomorrow," says Killian.

Ariel is surprised that Killian isn't trying to talk her out of it. Killian continues speaking, having sensed Ariel's reaction.

"For one reason or another, you're determined to kill the sea witch. I know you well enough to realize that there's nothing I can do to stop you. So I figure I'll give you a good lay and a good night's sleep and see to it that you're ready to spill some blood other than your own tomorrow," he says.

Ariel smiles. She is grateful for Killian's support in her endeavor, though "suicide mission" might be a better term. Whatever the case, she wants the support of the man for whom she's risking her life.

Ariel turns her head to kiss Killian's neck. She's not shy about using her tongue, and Killian seems to appreciate it. She nuzzles her nose along his jaw. Then she shifts herself so that she's on top of him.

This could be round four or round fourteen for all she knows. She does know that it's a good one. Killian's been on top for most of the day, so this is a welcome change of pace to the both of them, especially since Ariel was beginning to get the sense that Killian's legs had started to hurt again. The sex is no less vigorous because of it, though. Ariel wonders briefly whether it's a bad idea to use all of her energy fucking Killian senseless. Then she decides that she doesn't particularly care.

When they're finished, Ariel reaches for the sheets. She draws them up over herself and Killian, having decided to finally get some rest.

"Sleep well," says Killian.

Ariel kisses him on the cheek.

They curl up around each other, legs entwined and arms wrapped around each other. They don't need to turn out any lights, as the lamp went out a few hours ago. Neither Ariel nor Killian had ever bothered to get up and relight it.

Ariel slips quickly into sleep. She always does after good sex. Killian's mind is slower in slipping off, though. He tries to lose himself in the feel of Ariel's body next to his, the soft sound of her breathing. He begins counting sheep, and at last he feels himself become lost to sleep. As he drifts off, he can swear that he hears Ariel's voice calling out to him from above deck.


	9. Chapter 9 - Long in Coming

Killian is still asleep when Ariel slips out of bed. His arm, which had been wrapped around Ariel's midsection, slumps against the bed. Ariel tries not to bump into anything in the pressing darkness of the cabin, but she can't see anything except for vague outlines. The floorboards of the cabin feel cold against her bare feet as she gathers up her clothes.

Ariel grabs the dagger from the shelf near the door. Upon leaving the cabin, she finds the stairs easily enough. She has to be careful not to trip on the ascent, though.

Her night vision has almost entirely adjusted by the time she emerges onto the deck. The moon looks like a Christmas bauble strung up just above the horizon. It provides just enough light by which to get dressed. After donning her clothes, Ariel straps Gold's dagger to her hip. It weighs heavy in its sheath.

Ariel wonders what time it is. Then she decides that she'd rather not know. She'd prefer not to spend these last few, night-shrouded hours counting down the minutes until she fights Ursula.

There are lanterns on deck, but Ariel doesn't bother lighting them. She doesn't mind waiting in the dark. She doesn't have any matches, anyway.

Dawn is long in coming.

Ariel leans against the mast as she waits. She feels vaguely cowardly, having slipped out of bed in the middle of the night. And for what? To to avoid a messy goodbye?

Killian would not try to talk her out of it, Ariel knows. But whatever the case, it would serve no other purpose than muddling Ariel's heart. And quite frankly, she doesn't want to deal with that. Not today.

Ariel watches the sky grow lighter as time trickles by. Black turns to blue turns to the faintest pink around the horizon. When dawn is near, Ariel descends the steps down the side of Killian's ship. It's almost time.

She waits where the docks meet the street, far from Killian's ship. It's safer if Ursula doesn't know where it is.

Ariel leans against a building as she waits, trying to appear dauntless. Her position is strategic: from this vantage point, Ursula cannot take her unawares. Still, Ariel is nervous. Her life depends on her ability to best the sea witch. What if she doesn't have it in her?

Ariel thinks of Killian, of having to see him beaten and bleeding. She takes a deep breath and stands a little straighter.

* * *

Killian is still in bed. He yawns, stretches, and reaches over to flick on a lantern. The sheets slip down to his thighs, leaving his torso exposed. Killian shivers in the morning chill and beings to look around for his shirt. In the heat of last night, his clothes had gotten strewn all over the cabin. Killian grins at the memory.

There comes a sound from outside the cabin. Killian's ears prick up but catch nothing. He disregards it as the wind.

As he is pulling on his boots, he hears the sound again. It sounds like a voice, a woman's voice.

Killian shoves his sword roughly into the scabbard at his waist. Then he leaves the cabin in pursuit of the voice.

He hears it, whispering his name. And he would stake his life on it being Ariel's voice. He probably knows it better than his own.

"Ariel!"

"Killian!"

Her voice is coming from farther below deck. Killian runs down the stairs, following Ariel's dulcet voice. It is all the sweeter for his not having heard it recently.

"Killian!"

"I'm coming, love," he says, "I'm coming."

Faster, faster he goes down the steps. Ariel calls out to him all the way down, but she seems to get farther away. He can hear her voice coming from somewhere below him, though. Is this a trick? How could Ariel have gotten her voice again?

He stops. Ariel is still calling out to him, but there is something off about her voice. How could it be hers, when she is gone to fight the sea witch? Killian knows then that this is a trick. He turns and runs back up the steps. Ariel is on the dock, not in the hold of his ship.

* * *

The sun has cleared the horizon, and still Ursula has not appeared. Ariel is growing concerned. What if Ursula has deceived her?

She pulls the dagger out of its sheath and palms the grip compulsively. She passes it from hand to hand and practices thrusting it forward. Oh God, why didn't she prepare for this?

Sunlight blooms over the docks. Ariel feels its warmth spread over her face. She will not need her coat if Ursula takes much longer. Today is going to be unseasonably warm, she can tell.

Finally, she hears footsteps. She turns and sees Ursula coming down the street, cool as you please. The sea witch has her hands tucked in her coat pockets, and she has a wry grin spread across her face. She looks as though she has already won this fight.

"Sorry I'm so late," says Ursula in a cloying tone.

Ariel steps away from the building she'd been leaning against. She grips the dagger firmly.

"Oh, were we allowed to bring weapons? The messenger boy didn't specify," says Ursula.

Ariel does not let Ursula goad her into attacking first. She can what trick the sea witch is playing.

Ursula steps closer, prowling like a cat. She's grinning manically, and it gives Ariel the distinct impression that the she's actually enjoying this. Ariel, on the other hand, can practically feel the fear and electricity crackling along her skin. She's ready for a fight, dammit. Ursula is dangling it in front of her, teasing her with the idea. But she won't let her actually have it. Not yet, at least.

"Are you going to kill me? Is that the plan? I think you'll find me surprisingly hard to kill," says Ursula.

_Don't let her get in your head_, Ariel tells herself. She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Ursula is only a few feet away now. Ariel maps out the spot on Ursula's chest where she'll drive the dagger in. It'll be easy, she tries to tell herself. But she feels herself begin to tremble like a scared little girl. She tries to force down the nerves. But oh god, she has to kill someone or else she's going to die. What if she can't do it?

Ursula is barely inches away. Ariel steps back, reacting to the sudden closeness. Ursula's very presence makes her uncomfortable. She can't bear the thought of Ursula actually touching her.

"Do it. Kill me," whispers Ursula. "Or are you too scared?"

Ariel lets herself be driven back toward the edge of the dock. She's still holding the dagger, but she can't find the courage to use it.

"Is your pirate coming to help you?" says Ursula.

Ariel swallows her fear as best she can. But it gobs up in her throat, and she finds herself suddenly unable to breathe.

"Between you and me, I don't think he's coming. I've set up a little something that's going to have him laid up for a while."

Ariel freezes. Her mind races through all the possible horrors Ursula could have inflicted on Killian. Her eyes flick toward the Jolly Rodger, but of course, she sees nothing.

"Would you like to know what it is?" asks Ursula.

Ariel shakes her head "no." She won't give Ursula the satisfaction.

But a second later, she hears the explosion.

Magic hides the ship as it initially sets afire and rips apart. But the explosion bursts apart enchantment and ship alike. After only a few seconds, fiery wreckage fills the air to clatter onto the dock or land flacidly in the water.

Ariel scans the dock for Killian. She cannot see him.

Ursula takes advantage of Ariel's distraction and grabs her by the shirt. She practically lifts Ariel off the ground and gets in sickeningly close to her.

"Shall we call that the starting signal?"

She throws Ariel across the dock with surprising strength. Ariel falls hard on her hip, but she manages to keep a hold on the dagger. She scrambles to her feet as Ursula gets nearer and nearer.

The sea witch holds a ball of fire in each hand. She lets them fly with a flick of her wrists. Ariel leaps to the side at the last second to avoid them. A charred hole marks where she stood not even a second ago. Prickles rise on her arms as her brain processes what the blasts might have done to her.

If she had a voice, she surely would have squeaked like a frightened little mouse.

* * *

One by one, Killian's senses slowly come back to him. Consciousness slipped away from him for barely a moment, but his head is still swimming. He knows he has his sight back by the distinctive way that the sunlight plays on his eyelids. Hearing is the last sense to return, and when it does, everything still sounds muddled.

It was lucky that Killian wasn't in the hold when the ship exploded. He surely would have died.

He counts his limbs, shifting them against the dock so as to take inventory. Arms, check. Legs, check. His torso feels like it's in one piece, or as near as makes no matter. His head is a little worse for wear, but thoughts are coming in clear enough.

He'll live.

Killian opens his eyes. Then he hears a thoroughly unwelcome voice.

"It's dishonorable to attack an unconscious man," says Eric. "Even worse to attack his dead body."

"Lucky for me," says Killian, but the words come out as a garbled mess.

He tries to sit up, and he almost succeeds. But then the dock comes up to meet him and smacks him in the head. Who is lifting the wood, he wonders?

"Not too far from a corpse, I think," remarks Eric.

"Go to hell," says Killian. His words come out much clearer this time.

"I'd be happy to send you there," says Eric.

Killian presses his hands into the dock for balance and rises to his knees. He checks that he still knows where the ground is. Assured of that much, he stands. He has only a moment to gather his bearings before he is set upon by an adversary of negligible skill.

Eric focuses largely on throwing punches and not much on blocking them. Killian gets in at least two hits for every one that Eric lands. But Eric has the advantage of not having just barely survived an explosion, a handicap which is proving more than a little annoying to Killian. His ears are still not acclimated from the loud blast. Every one of Eric's jibes sound as though they are coming from underwater. The thought gives Killian an idea.

He drives Eric toward the edge of the dock easily. Having been in too many fights to count, moving his opponent where he wishes is as natural as breathing. Eric, Killian knows, was a prince back home. He was accustomed to honorable fights where men played fair. Killian fails to see the fun in that.

Eric only sees Killian's ploy when he is very near the dock's edge. He tries to run forward to avoid the trap, but Killian catches him around the middle.

"Not going to be so easy as that," says Killian.

Then, as easily as if Eric were a sack of potatoes, he shoves the bastard off of the dock and into the water with a satisfying splash. He hears a large spluttering and a fair amount of swearing. He grins.

Eric is still shouting as Killian walks away. Killian's strength is quickly failing him, as he used what little he had left of it to deal with Eric. But then he sees something not far off that gives him strength enough for twenty men.

Ariel.

* * *

Ursula knocks the dagger from Ariel's hand. Her talons catch Ariel's skin, leaving bloody red claw marks. Ariel recoils, clutching at her hand. Ursula takes the chance to lunge forward. But a second later, she falls back. Behind her, Ariel sees Killian holding his bloody hook in the air.

She has never seen a more magnificent sight.

Ursula is not badly damaged by the hook. A little bit of blood trickles down her hair, but Ursula pays it no mind. She quickly whirls around to lash at Killian. He ducks her first blow easily, but he is not prepared for her magic. Ursula unleashes a blast that sends him sprawling.

Ariel takes advantage of Ursula's distractedness to reach for the dagger. Her hand is only an inch away from the damned thing when the back of her arm rips open for no visible reason. Ariel knows it to be Ursula's work. The slashes are identical to the ones that Ursula gave Killian on his legs.

Ursula sets upon Ariel again. She pulls her away from the dagger before her fingers can close around the handle. A desperate cry rises in Ariel's throat and escapes as a silent whimper.

"Set your attack dog on me, did you?!" cries Ursula, "See how you like it when I tear his flesh to ribbons!"

Ursula slams Ariel against a nearby bench. The edge of the bench hits her in the middle, and she feels her spine crack. Her neck snaps back and forth, and for a moment she sees stars.

"You paid me your heart in exchange for legs. Last I checked, you still have legs," says Ursula.

Ariel tilts her head toward Ursula, but her eye is drawn to what Killian is doing behind her. He crouches to the ground, and he seems to be reaching for something. Ariel suppresses a smile as she realizes what it is: Killian is holding the dagger.

Ursula swoops down to pin Ariel to the bench. The metal presses into Ariel's back, making her wince in pain. She tries to move out of Ursula's iron grip, but the sea witch is strong.

There comes a large thump. Ariel tilts her head and is surprised to see not one, but two black-haired men lying in a heap on the ground. She knows immediately who the new man in the fight is. Why is he soaking wet, though?

Ursula turns around but does not break her grip on Ariel. She surveys Killian and Eric briefly before issuing a crisp command.

"Finish him," she tells Eric.

Ariel knows Killian can best Eric in a fight. But when Ursula has finished pulling out her heart, she will surely turn around to slaughter Killian, too. Or maybe if she has Ariel's heart in her hand, she will command Ariel to do it. The thought makes her shudder.

Ursula turns back to Ariel. She adopts a simpering smile, and she crowds in close to Ariel's face. Ariel tries to turn away, but Ursula grabs her jaw roughly and forces her to look her in the eye.

"I'm a reasonable woman," says Ursula, "I only want payment for doing you a service. Your new legs have served you well, after all. They're fairly valuable, I'd say."

Ariel shakes her head. She mouths "please" but no sound comes out. Desperate, furious tears well in her eys. She reaches out to claw at Ursula, but the sea witch catches her arms and digs her razor-sharp nails into the cuts on Ariel's arm. Ariel squirms in pain.

"It will be more painful if you do not stay still," hisses Ursula.

Ariel bites her lip. She looks over Ursula's shoulder for one last look at Killian, but her eyes are instead drawn to Eric. He has the dagger in his hand, and Killian is right next to him. But Eric does not attack him.

Ursula extend her arm toward Ariel. Her long, red fingernails stretch forward for the first taste of blood.

Ariel's eyes do not stray from Eric. What is he doing? Then suddenly, she feels hope flare up in her chest.

Eric throws the dagger up in a soaring arc. Ariel watches it, not comprehending what is happening. She watches it go up and up, unsure of where it is going to land. In the bay? But then it begins to fall, and she sees that it is coming towards her.

Ursula's hand pierces through Ariel's shirt, scratching the skin below. Ariel's hand closes around the dagger. She catches it by the blade; it cuts a sharp line down her palm. Ariel wastes no time in shifting the blade to her other hand, handle-first.

Ursula's hand is submerged to the wrist in Ariel's chest. Ariel can feel the woman's fingers scrabbling around for her heart. It will be easier to get out this time, having been pulled out once before. But Ariel has no intention of letting that happen.

Ariel shoves the dagger into Ursula's chest.

Ursula pulls her arm away, leaving Ariel's heart behind. The knife sticks out of Ursula's chest as she falls to the ground, screaming in agony. Black blood oozes out from her wound, turning to smoke as it comes into contact with the air. It shrouds Ursula in a demonic, dark haze.

Ariel rises to her feet slowly, watching the whole display in equal parts relief and horror.

Then it is over. Ursula screams no more, thrashes no more. The smoke dissipates. All that is left is the broken corpse of a woman deranged.

Ariel clenches her palm, trying to ignore the pain. She can patch herself up when she returns home. She steps forward and kneels beside Ursula's body. She takes a long look at the dead sea witch before prying the dagger from her chest.

Gold. She needs to get the dagger to him with the blood still on it.

Ariel stands and almost sets off running before she sees Eric. His head is tilted downward contritely and his hands are, as ever, shoved in his coat pockets. Ariel looks down at the dagger in her hand. Why did he throw it to her?

"I loved you, you know," says Eric.

There it is. The harsh truth Ariel never wanted to acknowledge when they had been sort-of-together.

"I couldn't just watch you die," he continues, "And there's something else…"

Eric reaches down the front of his shirt to draw out a seashell on a string. It is shaped like every other seashell on the beaches of Maine, but there is something odd about it. Ariel can't put her finger on it.

"Ursula made me go buy it from Mr. Gold. It didn't come cheap, you know. But I think it was worth it," says Eric.

He pulls the shell off of its strung and throws it to the ground. The shell splinters. Gold light seeps out from the cracks. Eric crushes the shell beneath his foot, and the gold light flows freely through the air. It buffets about as if gusting in the wind, and then it comes toward Ariel.

She feels her throat grow warm. She recalls the first time she drank fresh water after gaining her legs. She remembers what it first felt like to speak without seawater clogging her mouth. When she speaks now, she has never known words to taste sweeter.


	10. Epilogue

A knock on the door interrupts the steady beeping of machinery. Killian looks up to see Ariel in the doorway, wearing a heavy coat and a gentle smile.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" she says.

"Permission granted," he says with a grin.

Ariel steps into the room and drags a chair to the side of the bed. She sets her purse on the floor, pulls off her coat, and crosses her legs.

"How are you doing?" she asks.

Killian shrugs, but the paralytic ache all over his body keeps the gesture from being anything more than a flinch. He realizes Ariel probably didn't notice it.

"I'm fine," he says.

"I'm glad to hear it," she replies.

Killian can't help but smile when he sees the look on Ariel's face. He couldn't quite put a word to it, but it's the calmest she's been in quite a while. He can't help but feel a little pride for having a hand in that.

"You know, I'd begun to think you weren't going to come back. You took far longer than I'd expected," says Killian. His tone is vaguely playful, but both of them see through to the dependence behind the joke.

"Sorry about that." She explains, "Eric took a lot of convincing."

"He needed convincing to take his heart back? Goodness, I knew the man was thick, but that's just…"

He trails off as Ariel gives him a look.

"He didn't want it," she says. "He said it's caused him more trouble than it was worth. In the end, I made him take it anyway. He promised he'd put it back in eventually."

"I'm not surprised at his reluctance. Poor man's been through the ringer, between you and Ursula."

"Me?! What did I do to him?"

"He's got a broken heart, love. It wasn't the sea witch who did that."

Ariel is quiet. Her eyes are downcast.

"It's not your fault. You just happen to be a bit of a heartbreaker, in case you hadn't noticed."

Head still tilted down, Ariel looks up at Killian and smiles sadly. The effect is so bashful and lovely that Killian would give his other hand to be able to embrace her right at that moment.

"None of this was your fault," he feels the need to say.

"Wasn't it, though?" says Ariel.

Killian shakes his head. He says, "Not for one moment. And what damage was done won't last. Eric got his heart back, I'm on the mend, and you have your voice again."

"What about your ship?" she asks.

Killian goes quiet. He's been trying not to think about the _Jolly Rodger_. But it's been hard, like trying not to think about a missing limb.

"Killian?"

"She can be rebuilt, enchantments and all," he says.

He says it to pacify Ariel, but he finds that it brings himself some comfort, too.

"That'll take a while," she responds.

"It'll take as long as it takes. When it's done…"

He hesitates. He rehearsed the next bit in his head the whole time Ariel was gone. He rearranged the words and edited out the sappier bits, trying to make it sound just right.

Ariel is smiling at Killian like she always does, equal parts amusement and affection. It makes him forget every honeyed word he had composed in his head. Instead, he just blurts it out.

"Come away with me."

Ariel's bright red eyebrows go up her forehead faster than Killian would have expected. Her jaw drops ever so slightly. Killian can't help but notice how perfectly pink and soft it makes her lips look.

He hangs on tenterhooks, waiting for Ariel to respond. For a moment, she almost seems as if she's lost her voice again. The seconds tick by. Killian grows more anxious with each one. What if he was too forward? What if she wants to stay in Storybrooke? What if she wants to stay near her prince?

"Come away with you…" says Ariel quietly.

Killian can only nod. He would speak, but his tongue feels stupid and thick. His brain does too, for that matter. He prays she will answer soon.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. Killian feels as though the whole universe is compressing around him. He only realizes after Ariel replies that he has been holding his breath the whole time.

"Yes," she says.

He could sing. He could kiss her. He would lift her into the air and twirl her around, if he had the strength. As things stand (or don't stand, rather), he'll have to wait until he's out of the hospital. He's tried walking about a few times over the past day, and each time he has nearly collapsed.

"I love you," he says instead.

Ariel smiles. She takes Killian's hand and squeezes it gently.

"I love you, too," she says.

Then she stands and uses her foot to push her chair to the side. She leans over Killian. As she does so, her hair cascades over her shoulder and brushes softly over Killian's arms. Ariel's lips meet his for a brief moment. Then, with her face still so close to his and her eyes half-fluttered shut, she smiles.

"Come away with you where?" she asks.

"Anywhere you like."


End file.
